Dear Rival
by Bittersweet Revenge
Summary: Bored, Harry and Draco start a correspondence which brings them to spend time together and get to know each other without forgetting they are rivals. But, against their own will, their feelings start growing to something more... [HarryDraco]
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Dear Rival**

**Author: Bittersweet Revenge**

**Summary:** Bored, Harry and Draco start a correspondence which brings them to spend time together and get to know each other, without forgetting they are rivals. But their feelings start growing to something more... Harry/Draco

**Rating:** PG-13, will maybe go up a little

**Gender:** future slash.

**Pairing:** Harry/Draco

**Disclaimer:** -- I do not own the characters. They belong to the talented J.K.Rowling, along with everything else canonically stated in the Harry Potter series. I am not making money out of this and the only thing being spent is my time.

**A/N:** I often add parts to already posted chapters; one of the consequences of always wanting to improve my story, which means that many chapters are in their second (or even third), enhanced version. I hope you enjoy it! Oh, and this is a **PRE HBP STORY.**

-------------------------------------------------

**Chapter 1: Boredom's Effect **

All was calm in Little Whinging, and no sound could be heard on Privet Drive, save perhaps a couple of crickets playing their symphony around number twelve and the distant hum of cars rushing on the nearby highway. The sky wasn't exactly covered but the stars couldn't be seen. Only a beautiful crescent-shaped moon was shinning down on the little muggle town; not that anyone could see it of course, everyone was sleeping soundly in their beds, off to a world of their own making. Only one was not doing such a thing.

Harry woke up, if you could in deed say so in view of the fact that he had not had any decent sleep since the end of year feast at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which had occurred a little more than three weeks before. We could rather say he had just awaken from another one of those pensive states where we simply lose track of time, staring at nothing in particular and think about everything that is going on in our life. He had been coming in and out of that state for more than three weeks now, because the little rest he had was pursued by never-ending nightmares that left him contemplating all he had done wrong, everything that was happening... thinking, always thinking... It was not like The Boy Who Lived could just avoid it. He knew a rather large weight was on his shoulders but at that moment, he couldn't feel it.

It is to say, when the one who is supposed to stop the raging war between good and evil is sent off almost by force to his muggle relatives where he is not allowed to use magic and has no news from his friends or the outside world, the question of his importance is sharply put on hold.

And in relation to that, he was thinking of his friends and of the Order of the Phoenix, who had sent him here.

And he was angry.

They were repeating the same mistake they had made the previous summer, except that this year, it was relatively worse. They were obliged to correspond each three days but said nothing. Absolutely nothing. No news of the outside world, of the Dark Lord or even less of the Ministry of Magic. The letters started with 'Dear Harry', continued by telling him nothing was happening, and finished by ordering him to respond immediately or else a qualified team of Aurors would be sent to investigate. Sometimes the messages were written and signed by Ron or Hermione, other times by Remus or Tonks or even Mad-Eye Moody with his strange, almost coded writing. But the signature was the only major difference between each piece of parchment he received. At this point, he almost didn't even take the time to open the letters, knowing by instinct that they didn't say anything at all. Afraid the letters would be intercepted, afraid Harry would want to be part of what was being done... he did not know which idea to trust the most. It was as if they didn't care, as if they thought not knowing would make him happy and help him take some time off.

But he couldn't take time off to 'relax'! All that was happening, everything that they were trying to hide from him, it was part of his life. Heck, it was his life, he had to cope with it, he had to know what was going on. Didn't they know this by now? He couldn't relax at a time like this, just like Remus couldn't relax on a full moon. This was his life, his goal... the war.

He did remember that the first four letters were very long and packed with information about friends and the Weasley family... but since then, it had been consistent monotony. Just like when a young child promises to take care of a new pet, does so for the first week before abandoning it. The parents are too occupied to do it, so they always end up getting rid of the pet.

Harry sulked.

"What's the point of corresponding if Voldermort can't come here, anyways?" he grumbled in the dark, thinking of what Dumbledore had explained about his mother's blood protecting him through Petunia. " 'We're not allowed to tell you anything'," he added, taking a little sassy voice, imitating Hermione or Ron. "Who do they think they are, for Merlin's sake! I don't want to brag, I mean, there isn't anything to brag about but they aren't the ones who went through what I did."

Hedwig's eyes glowed in his direction questioningly as she stretched her wings, flapping them lightly as she made a few steps on the little wooden tablet in her unlocked birdcage.

"Yep, you're the only one left," Harry told her, receiving a hoot for answer.

Hedwig had been with him through thick and thin ever since they had met. She had not only been his first real present, but his first link to the Wizarding World, the first thing that had made him stand out as a wizard and not as a muggle. She had not changed since Hagrid had bought her and given her to the eleven year old boy and remained supporting and attentive as ever. It was true, she was starting to age and sometimes needed more time to rest, but the mail always reached its destination and she very rarely complained about the conveys. Harry smiled at her, watching her amber eyes disappear and reappear as she blinked lazily.

Sighing, he looked back at the ceiling, wondering how his friends were spending their time at the Burrow. In all probability having fun, even if they denied it. Through his eyes, nothing could be boring in the Wizarding World compared to the life he led at Privet Drive.

He couldn't help but wonder how Fred and George were doing with the Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. Ron had sent him a pamphlet about it with the first letter he had received. The brochure had also been sent to a great part of the Hogwarts students, promoting the close opening of their first joke shop in Diagon Alley. He had also heard that Fred had bought a flat near the Ministry and was now living there with Angelina, who was studying not in one department but in two: the Department of Magical Games and Sports, where many said she would have a bright future in the British and Irish League Headquarters, and in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, where she was an assistant in the Magical Office of Law. It had reassured Molly that Fred was dating a sensed witch who could get him out of trouble, morally and financially, if his shop did not work out.

George, on the other hand, still lived with his parents and had taken Percy's old room while Bill and Charlie slept in the bedroom the twins had lived in most of their life. They had said that they wanted to be there if something happened... because of Voldemort... Especially since their father had been attacked.

Harry's eyes drifted to his table where various things were displayed, including an old copy of the Daily Prophet with the title 'Mayhem at Azkaban' in big letters, masked wizards roaming through the moving picture beneath it.

The captured Death Eaters had escaped the magical prison with ridiculous ease barely a week after their imprisonment. Lucius Malfoy had disappeared bringing his family with him and was hiding in America, according to the Daily Prophet. All the other Death Eaters were also nowhere to be found, all being in hiding. Voldemort was staying quiet, doubtlessly waiting for the best moment to show up. It was all he knew. No word from Dumbledore, from the Order's activities, from the Weasleys - who were supposed to invite him to the Burrow - or anything to do with magic.

"I want to get out of here!" he half whispered, half yelled, to no one in particular.

Hedwig hooted again and a shriek was heard down the hallway, most probably made by uncle Vernon. Harry frowned and rolled his eyes, hearing his uncle yell something to do with making his owl shut up. Harry rose from his bed and walked to Hedwig's cage, having his glasses already on his nose.

"I think it would be better for you to go," Harry whispered to his pet once he was less than a feet away from her. "Just go... fly around or something."

Hedwig nibbled the tip of his fingers and jumped on the windowsill, from where she flew off into the night sky after a few flaps of her wings. Harry didn't move from his place for quite a while, looking at her fly away until she was a simple grey dot in the horizon, vaguely imagining himself getting away from this place like she was doing at that moment. He wondered what it would be like to disappear, to not be recognized when he walked down a street.

His cheeks reddened. He did not want to assume that he was always recognized or that he should be, but he'd like people not knowing, to look at him and see him for who he was: a boy becoming a man too soon, stuck with no family, with feelings everyone else experienced...

Closing half of the window, he caught his dishevelled reflection in the tarnished glass. God, he looked like he had spent the last three weeks in Azkaban, not in a muggle home. Thin as ever yet definitely taller than before, not so tanned skin, the same black hair and his eyes, green, almost exasperatingly so.

He turned his head sideways, trying to look at himself from a different angle. There was something else. Something that was not there the previous year and that he could not put a finger on. It was something to do with his jawbone, or maybe just his appearance... whatever it was, it made him look somewhat handsome, more mature, more... more than he was before. He knew it didn't necessarily come from his father, having seen him in his picture album, but it wasn't from his mother either. It was something he had developed himself, without really noticing. Just like the way he walked, wrinkled his nose when something he did not like was happening or tried to hide everything he felt about his position in the Wizarding World.

He snorted, walking away from the window.

His mind was Azkaban, not this place. Fortunately, the corruption his mind had been affected by could not be seen anywhere else than his treacherous eyes. The slightly unhealthy look that gave away that he had grown too fast had morphed into something a bit more stylish, another thing he couldn't quite place or put into words.

He walked back to his bed and sat on it, leaning against the wall. His eyes grazed his picture album on his bedside table. It was opened on one of the last pages. He was with his parents, Sirius and Remus, at the beach, the summer before he became an orphan. Remus was stuck under an imposing sun umbrella, a very wet Sirius was trying to bring him towards the water, his father was building a sandcastle with his young son and his mother was watching them, vainly trying to make him wear a little white hat.

How he would love to spend one summer like that, with no worries whatsoever. He wondered what Sirius did during the summer, before he had been sent to Azkaban. Did Remus actually take a summer break? If he did, where could he possibly go? He sighed and looked back at the opposite wall, staring at it for a very long time.

Seeing that, as always, sleep wouldn't come, he pulled out a quill and a piece of parchment from his trunk, took his transfiguration book and leaned on its cover to write. There was something in writing to someone that intrigued him, something baffling and personal. He liked the feeling.

He softly passed his fingers on the parchment, wondering to whom he would send it.

Surely not Ron or Hermione, they didn't deserve to be written to with the kind of response they always gave. And he was so angry after his two friends, he did not have anything to tell them.

Hagrid maybe? No, he was occupied with the giants and his undercover work for Dumbledore. Dobby? He didn't even know if the house elf could read. Dumbledore was not the kind of person he wanted to talk to, and Sirius was gone. That last thought made him cringe. Lupin was too occupied with the Order of the Phoenix and none of the other members of the Order would take time to talk. And he was sick of their encouragements and all their other bullshit.

"Who..." he murmured, eyes drifting to the window again.

Just when he was starting to think that no one was worth writing to and that he was about to crumple the parchment into a ball and throw it against the wall, he though of one particular person who wouldn't send him his encouragements, support and hope. Someone who didn't sugar-coat everything he said, someone who was going through the exact opposite of what he was living at that moment.

Draco Malfoy.

How had it started? Harry remembered entering madam Malkin's robe shop in Diagon Alley and seeing the blond boy for the first time, on a pedestal, letting himself be measured by the owner of the shop. Harry sniggered at the thought. Since the very beginning, the Slytherin had thought himself on a podium. It is to say... he had not been arrogant or mean during this first meeting. Yes, he had spoken disparagingly of Hagrid, but he had simply been affirming what he had heard of him... comments that were maybe even true, even though Harry had been put off considerably by that simple remark about his half-giant friend.

What had happened next? Ah, Malfoy had spoken about witches and wizards born in muggle families, expressing his resentment about their acceptance at Hogwarts. Harry had been annoyed by that speech, remembering that he could never object or say what he thought of the matter because Malfoy kept talking and talking...

Aboard the Hogwarts Express, Draco had realized who he was and had introduced himself. Soon after came the comment about the Weasley family and Harry's rejection of Malfoy's friendship. It all went downhill from there.

It was strange for him to realize that he was the one to openly declare himself Malfoy's enemy and not vice-versa.

The simple thought of writing to him made the Boy Who Lived laugh loudly. He shoved his transfiguration manual to his left, watched it bounce once, the springs of the mattress squeaking loudly, forcing the book off the bed and onto ground with a deep thump that echoed lightly in the room for less than a second.

Silence.

Not only in his room, but it the whole house, in the whole street, in the whole neighbourhood. He couldn't hear the crickets anymore. The silence spread everywhere, into his heart and into his mind.

Everyone had contributed to its prominence. They, the wizards and the muggles around him. All his life, there was the alternation of silence and unwanted clamours. Harry Potter, the Great Harry Potter. The best seeker, the conqueror of evil with no flaws or imperfections. And then there was silence and ignorance. No one acknowledged what he wanted or how he felt. All they saw was the Great Harry Potter. No one saw the boy whose parents had been murdered, the one that had lived through a terrible childhood, the boy whom no one told he was a wizard until eleven years after his birth... The one who lives with pain, who has lost so many people dear to his heart. No one saw him for himself. Everything was sugar-coated or hidden from critical view.

His friends weren't listening to him. They were just watching him, like a relic on a mantelpiece. He could scream out all he wanted, no one would truly give a damn. They only saw Harry Potter. They loved him for who he was and didn't care about anything else.

He frowned. Now that he thought about it, why wouldn't he write to Draco Malfoy?

He hated him of course, because he was a Slytherin, because of the way he treated him, because of what he said, because of the way he was... but it would be an enticing experience... After all, Draco Malfoy did not see him exactly like others did. Draco Malfoy hated him.

Harry started imagining how the blond young man would react when receiving a letter from him and couldn't help laughing again. He bent down on the side of his bed and grabbed his transfiguration guidebook.

"I have nothing to lose," Harry muttered to himself as a last reason, dipping his quill in his inkbottle. But how would he start the letter? What would he write? Somehow, he didn't even need to think of it. The words almost appeared by themselves.

_Dear Rival, _

_I don't expect you to ever respond to this letter, but since interesting correspondents are rare these days, I dared to give it a shot. I hear you are in America, as the Daily Prophet seems to say, though I doubt that is true. The Daily Prophet is, anyhow, seen inferior to the Quibbler through my eyes, as I'm sure you have seen what they have written during the year. They didn't have anything better to do than invent lies concerning myself, which was quite annoying. You must have found it entertaining, I'm sure._

_As you know, I'm forced to live with my detestable muggle relatives for the summer time. You must be having a much better time than I._

_Oh, well. Receiving mail, even from the son of a Death Eater, is bound to be more compelling than what I'm going through, so write back, even if it's to insult me. Even a Howler would be appreciated. _

_Sincerely, _

_Harry Potter _

He knew he would perhaps not be waiting impatiently for a response. Draco was still a Malfoy, and a particularly wicked one at that, but what he would write, if he ever did, was bound to be more remarkable than what Ron and Hermione repeated over and over. And this correspondence might be interesting if it indeed happened. Who knows? Maybe they were actually going to have a reasonably normal exchange of letters.

But there was still the issue of Draco really replying. Maybe he would just be his annoying self and not answer back for the simple reason that he knew the Griffindor would like him to do so. But then again, Harry had just given him the opportunity of sending him a Howler. Maybe he would take it, maybe he'd keep it simple and just write down insults on a parchment and mail it like that, telling him to leave him alone. There were so many possibilities.

He sighed, rose from his bed making it crack in the process, placed the neat parchment in an envelope, wrote the Slytherin's name on it and placed it near Hedwig's cage, by the window. He sat back on his bed and stared at the letter for a long while, until he dosed off into a light slumber, from which he woke up thanks to his aunt banging on his door the next morning. Once he was ready to go downstairs, he noticed that the letter was gone.

There was no turning back.

-------------------------------------------------

I'd greatly appreciate receiving any sort of review containing any sort of criticism, good or bad. I'm here to entertain you with my writing, and so it would be nice for me to know if you like it or if you'd like improvements. Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to my very first reviewers: rachiru-rebonu, Black Heart, FallenAngel, Redmeadow, Rayne-Jelly, Tabbes, CarpeNoctem17, HPIceAngel, Serena and Rulz. You people are great!

-------------------------------------------------

**Chapter 2: A Slytherin's Reply**

Walking down one of the countless corridors of Malfoy Manor, Draco sighed, starting to get seriously bored in recognition of the incredible lack of activities going on in his residence. The house elves were already in a pitiful state and he was not allowed to jinx them anymore, there were no human servants to tease, his father, recently returned from Azkaban, spent his time in his study and his mother simply stayed on the second floor terrace, reading those wizard magazines such as 'Witch Weekly', inviting pureblood witches and having tea, getting manicures and other similar things he was definitely not interested in. Crabbe and Goyle weren't coming over. In fact, no Slytherin was allowed to go anywhere... and unfortunately, he was no exception to that rule. Everyone, as in every dark wizard linked to Voldemort, was talking about You-Know-Who, planning reunions, unbelievable schemes and other gatherings.

The sons of these wizards were to lie low and not attract any attention to their families, and so were not authorized to visit each other, appear in public places or do anything else that could catch the interest of the Ministry of Magic. They were basically imprisoned in an invisible cage.

None of them dared to complain, most of them understanding very well why such measures were being taken. The Dark Lord was back, their fathers' master was regaining power. The one that had died when they were not in age to remember and who was now back to take over the magical world. Now, at that moment, they were forced to stay locked up but soon enough, it would be all the other young wizards who would have to do such a thing. They would then control those who had misjudged them for what they were not. They were proud and powerful, purebloods of the magical community, the invincible backbone of the wizarding world... and yet at that moment, they were not allowed to do anything.

"This sucks," Draco grumbled, letting his feet scrape the carpet as he walked. "... Totally dull summer time."

Nothing had happened since his return to the ancestral home. Yes, many visitors had come in and out of the magical structure to see his father by using a clandestine Floo Powder system, which wasn't linked to the actual Floo Network. If it had been, Aurors could have simply barged in and arrested his father again. There was also a rather important reunion of dark wizards that had happened the previous week, where he had had the chance to see some of his friends, but he had barely had the chance of exchanging words with them during the formal dinner where only adults had spoken, formulating speech after speech. After dinner, while mostly everyone was taking coffee or tea in the lounge with his parents, he had disappeared with Pansy Parkinson for a small session of snogging, which he had rather enjoyed.

His relationship with her was rather hard to determine. For one, he was not in love with her. She was very good-looking with her pretty face and black hair, popular and smart as well, but there was simply something that didn't click properly. That didn't stop him from taking her to the Yule Ball or making out with her whenever he wanted of course, because she was the prettiest Slytherin in his year and he knew he only deserved the best. He had dated other Slytherin girls as well, and she did the same with other Slytherins but they always ended up snogging in the end, whether of not they were already engaged in a relationship. But they both knew... it was just for fun. There had never been anything serious going on between them ever since they had first met on the Hogwarts Express, six years earlier.

And so no one asked questions when they came back in the lounge, the first slightly dishevelled and the other a bit red in the face. No one ever asked questions about that, actually. His father rarely reproached him anything, saying that he was of age of realizing himself his mistakes and making up for them without his senior telling him to do so.

His father was an outlandish role model. The simple way he treated his son was questioning. He couldn't be called a loving father, but he loved his son. No one could say he spoiled Draco, but he did buy him everything he wanted. Well, almost everything. He allowed him to do whatever he wanted, but kept him on a very tight leash.

Lucius Malfoy truly was a mystery. He often told his son to never let anyone treat him inferiorly, reminding him that he was a Malfoy, a descendant of one of the strongest pureblood families in the wizarding society. And yet he confused his son by prostrating himself in front of another... even if that other was Lord Voldemort.

No matter how long he tried, Draco could not imagine himself bowing down in front of anyone, not even Voldemort. He did believe his father was right to follow his master but would never take his place. He himself believed in what You-Know-Who was trying to impose, he defended his ideals, but... he could not see himself as a Death Eater, hidden under a mask, bowing down in front of a wizard who secretly was said to be part mudblood... No. With everything he had been taught, it was what he had concluded. He would build his own path to walk on when the time came. Maybe he would stand near Voldemort, but never would he squirm in dirt at his feet.

His mother, even though many thought she was indifferent to anything that happened, truly did affect Draco in her own personal way. She, like Lucius, never truly showed her son she loved him more than life itself. She watched him grow, knowing that according to the Malfoy belief, mothers should let their sons grow with a masculine example of a pureblood, their father. She had stubbornly refused to let Draco join Drumstang Academy in stead of Hogwarts, saying that Drumstang was farther from home and that she or Lucius were less prone to helping and protecting him when he was so far.

Draco was the opposite of Harry when it came to that. He had had a happy childhood, surrounded by his family. He got along with almost all of his relatives, lived a content, prosperous life. It was true, he sometimes wondered what it was like to truly love someone and feel loved in return because his parents and relatives had a particularly cold and distant way of appreciating him. It was a childish way of loving, one which never grew up or matured because loving someone could easily be seen as a flaw, a weakness, something that could not be tolerated in a pureblood family. And so he had grown used to it, used to never truly showing an emotion so plain and simple that would have been so edifying at times. It was probably why his relationship with Pansy would never work out: they had both grown up in the same familial atmosphere. And so at the end of the soiree, Pansy and the rest of his friends gone, he was left alone and bored, again, which led him to wander aimlessly in the hallways for the rest of the week.

Having nothing better to do at the moment, he involuntarily walked right to the mansion's owlery, located in a small tower on the south side of the enchanted structure. It did not resemble the school owlery in any way possible. This one was incredibly clean, having a black marble flooring and very large opened windows. There was neither hay nor droppings on the ground, seeing that house elves were ordered to keep the room as clean as magically possible at all times. There were metal perches located at different heights, but no barn owl was perched on them. There were only very fancy looking owls with incredible feathers. All were of dark tones, varying from dark grey, all shades of black and brown. A particularly imposing eagle owl one was standing near a window, looking at Draco enquiringly with his odd gold eyes. A silvery-black ring on which the Malfoy's name was engraved could be seen around one of his legs.

"Nothing for you today, Mischief," Draco said, petting its head with care.

He walked to the window and looked at the grounds outside. They were vast, seeming to be unemployed plains where the green and yellow grassland stayed at knee length magically. Dense forests bordered the clearings and the mansion. A few misty hills could be seen not too far behind and there was an icy river flowing right beneath the tower in which Draco was. It was a truly beautiful countryside.

It was then he noticed that a white owl was flying in circles in the middle of the prairie and it made him smile. Birds who didn't have the Malfoy ring around one of its legs could not see the mansion. It was bewitched in order not to be seen. In fact, not even wizards could see it, unless they had a special artefact in their possession or muttered a specific incantation.

He eyed the owl for a few moments, wondering if he should summon it to see what kind of news it brought. If it did not see the mansion, it had never been there before, which meant his or her master had not been in touch with neither of his parents, or even himself. Was it safe to accept this owl? For all he knew, it could come from the Ministry, it could contain some sort of tracking device, or opening the envelope could trigger an enchantment that would render the building visible to the normal eye. The Ministry would attack, capture his father, bring him back to jail. Or maybe Aurors were hiding out in the fields, under invisibility cloaks, waiting for the bait to be caught, or in other words, for the owl to be called by someone residing inside the Mansion.

Were his ideas far fetched? He couldn't really say. In these times, anything could be possible, especially when it came to wizards wanting to make sure his father was not back by the Dark Lord's side, undertaking his evil deeds, torturing the innocent, killing the opposing, causing havoc among society. He liked the idea that his family was feared. Of course, the fact it was no longer respected did disappoint him greatly, but he was the head of the next generation of Malfoys and he would erase his father's mistakes. He would do great things as well.

But for now, he was still thinking about the white owl. It did not seem dangerous, and the Ministry usually used ugly barn owls, not snowy white ones. Maybe someone was trying to contact him with no wicked plans hidden within that envelope.

And if it was dangerous, he would have no problem destroying it at once, informing his father who would take further measures to protect their home. He did dislike the idea of being reprimanded by his father, always wanting to prove him he was better and smarter than he thought, but at this point, he was curious about the letter, and curiosity had won over his fear of being lectured.

His smile fading away, he pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the window. Blue and green sparks erupted from the end, immediately being perceived by the lost owl. It flew in, circling the room before settling down on a perch at Draco's level. Hedwig dropped the letter she was holding in her beak and ruffled her feathers.

Draco looked at the bird questioningly, eyeing the letter in his hand.

There was something familiar about that owl, he was sure to have seen it before. It did not belong to any Slytherin, that he was sure of. It belonged to a student of another house at Hogwarts then... his eyes widened in shock as he remembered seeing his worst enemy carrying a birdcage with that exact owl in it.

"You're Potter's bird!" he exclaimed, looking at the envelope in astonishment.

Hedwig hooted softly, seeming as shocked as him. Draco turned the letter in his hands numerous times. Was this a prank? Maybe it was a Howler or a curse... yes, it could only be a hex, no?

Draco smiled in satisfaction. Yes, it could only be a hex, and so he was going to ignore it, definitely not open it, maybe even send it back.

But the Griffindor was not the type to send hexes. And the letter did not seem magical... maybe he wanted information, maybe he wanted to threaten him, maybe he was just gloating about his position or promising him his father would be caught and that his whole family was going to end up in Azkaban. But on the other hand, maybe it was just a dispatch!

-What could HE possibly want?- he thought, extremely interested in knowing.

He walked out of the owlery, slowly ripping the side of the envelope, carefully making sure it wasn't a Howler or bottled curse. Once one of the sides was neatly ripped, he waited to reach his room, in the north section of the mansion, to read the letter.

A smirk had by then formed on his lips. Finally, something out of the ordinary and worth spending time on.

He easily reached the two double sided oak doors that led to his room. They opened by themselves once he had pronounced his name and he walked into a modest room with a dark wooden flooring. A part of it was covered by a dark blue carpet that seemed soft to the touch. The walls were of a stylish coffee-coloured wood that vaguely resembled the one that covered the floor. He amused himself changing the walls to stone with the use of magic, from time to time, knowing that that way it looked like his dormitory at school. He had a four-poster bed made of black metal and covered by dark blue and green curtains. The covers were the same colours, accompanied by matching cushions. Beside the bed was a vast loophole window after which there was a large rosewood desk facing the wall and a second rather imposing window, which had been left open. On the other side of the room was a cupboard incrusted in the wall, a black lounger and a big mirror... not just good for giving back reflections. There was also a Slytherin poster attached to the back of one of the entrance doors, a Quidditch picture in front of the desk and photographs of different events on the writing table, each one in a different frame. For light, there were everlasting chandeliers hanging at regular intervals on the walls.

Draco sat down in front of his desk and finally pulled out the single piece of parchment Harry had sent him. He read it carefully and once he was done, he smiled widely. Crossing his fingers together as he savoured one of the most remarkable moments of his summer up to date.

"How interesting," he mumbled, still smiling.

He couldn't believe the Griffindor had sent him a rather friendly-seeming letter. Maybe he was regretting not having accepted his hand in first year, now that the Dark Lord was back. Draco shook his head, finding it stupid that he still thought of that embarrassing moment. Or on the other hand, he thought, maybe he was just trying to fool him into thinking that exact thing, to trick and humiliate him yet another time.

Draco furrowed his brow. That stupid git was not the kind of person to do that. Maybe he actually was, just like he said, bored out of his mind and simply on the lookout for an interesting correspondent such as himself. The Slytherin started considering that last option, as crazy as it sounded.

Was it possible? Why, out of all people, had he chosen to write to him? Was he crossed with his annoying acolytes? Was he tricking him? How could he be sure of anything?

Nothing assured him anything. He was simply stuck at a crossing of decision: to write or not to write.

He hesitated, not wanting to jeopardize his family's situation, but desperately wanting something interesting to happen during his vacation... everything was so dull around the mansion, he had no one to talk to. And would Potter really bring trouble? If he asked indiscrete questions, Draco could always decide not to answer them, or simply stop the correspondence. And his father did not have to know...

Looking out the window, he stared at the empty sky for a moment, thinking. Finally, he took out his wand once again and conjured a piece of fine parchment, a black quill and an inkbottle. With another smile, he started writing his reply, making sure to use the right words to formulate what he thought.

_Dear Rival, _

_I was quite astounded to see a letter from you arrive to me this morning. You were the last person I would have expected to take time to write, to me in particular, and yet, I can't say I'm unhappy about it. It kills me to admit it, but I do agree with you that interesting correspondents are uncommon these days and that distraction is hard to find, even for me, and so it is why I have decided to send you a simple letter and not a Howler or a jinxed note, even if it tempted me terribly. _

_The Daily Prophet is in deed horribly wrong about our location. We aren't even in hiding. Malfoys do not hide. But don't expect me to tell you where I am, I wouldn't lower my intellect to your level and make use of stupidity._

_And so you aren't spending your time with the weasel and the mudblood fur ball? This is quite unexpected of you. Then again, I don't see the difference between spending time with them or muggles. _

_And don't these muggles with whom you live treat you like their servant or something? It's totally disgraceful. Wizards aren't made to serve muggles. Why don't you just run away? You're being watched and followed, aren't you? sad. Very sad. _

_Insincerely, _

_Draco Malfoy _

_P.S.: I have taken the liberty of placing a ring on your owl's leg, in order for it to find its way back to the mansion, if you wish to write again. _

Draco reread his letter and found it just perfect. Just enough disdain and mockery, while keeping the letter responsive. Very Slytherin-like. He folded the paper and placed it in an envelope, on which he wrote Potter's name. He then took a little block of red sealing wax that he burnt with the tip of his wand. Having melted the end, he pressed it on the envelope's flipside, to close it. Before the wax completely dried up, he took a ring from the table's drawer, on which was his family's crest and pressed it on the wax, leaving the desired mark.

Satisfied, he rose from his seat and walked to his mirror after straightening his brown slacks and green shirt.

His eyes met his own reflection and he paused, hesitating as he saw the letter in his hands. His greyish blue eyes narrowed as he thought of what he was doing. He was responding in a forthcoming manner to a letter sent by that detestable Griffindor. Was there a catch?

What could that annoying little prat who gets too much attention get from this? If this was actually a trick, Mr. 'I-defeated-the-dark-lord-but-oh-look-now-he's-still-alive-and-I-can't-do-anything' and his little friends could barely get a laugh out of this because he (or they) started it all in the first place. Anyways, they would be rather pathetic to do that to try to humiliate him and it wouldn't work because he would make sure to bring that stupid Potter down with him.

He stood there for a few moments, looking at the mirror. No, nothing he had written could be used against him. Everything was fine, the owl could not be traced, his father didn't have to know... and this could be amusing, actually.

Again, he kept on looking at himself, pondering.

"Green definitely looks great on me," he muttered finally, smiling.

He slipped his hand in his right pocket and pulled out his wand, touching the glass with its tip. The screen immediately melted, while staying in place like a veil of silver liquid that no longer reflected the blond young man so clearly.

"The owlery," Draco said plainly, stepping into the glass.

He immediately appeared where he had wanted to go and found Hedwig still perched at the same place. He walked to her, brought out his wand and whispered an incantation. A ring appeared around one of her legs as Hedwig started hooting madly. It was a mix of black silver and dark green, but instead of the name 'Malfoy' being engraved, 'Potter' was written at its place.

Draco handed her his letter. She glared at him, took it in her beak, shaking her leg from time to time, as if trying to get rid of the ring.

"Now go," Draco said coldly.

The bird hopped to the window and disappeared immediately. Draco watched it go, sighed, and walked back to his room. He couldn't wait to see the outcome of his actions.

-------------------------------------------------

Do you like it:P


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to all my reviewers. :) Thank you for making me believe that this is worth writing.

If you have questions concerning... anything at all, feel free to ask, I'll answer in further chaps:P

-------------------------------------------------

**Chapter 3: Wizard Corresponding Set**

Again, it was nighttime at Privet Drive. In Harry's room, Hedwig was in her cage, her head hidden under her wing, while the Griffindor sat on his bed having a second look at the only interesting letter he had received this summer, sighing somewhat sadly, bearing in mind that it came from his worst enemy.

He couldn't believe it wasn't a Howler. He couldn't believe the parchment he was holding was not covered in insults instead of a fairly acceptable text. He couldn't believe the Slytherin could write to him without putting some nasty comment that would make it impossible for him of replying in a civilized manner. I mean, the last thing the blond young man had sent him at the end of the year was a death threat, because his father had been captured. And now... they were starting to write to each other? It did not make sense.

A week earlier, if they had been faced to each other, they would have most probably started a duel, but now... he didn't know... maybe there would have been a moment of hesitation because of those simple letters. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"DRACO MALFOY has outrun Ron and Hermione in matter of writing a simple letter," he muttered, nodding negatively. "I just can't believe this. Out of all people, him.him. That... that... that Slytherin."

Could it be possible for someone to be so different than how one imagines him to be? Was Malfoy just pretending? But why would he do such a thing, for what purpose? It did not stick together. It was only now that he truly realized that he had never expected the Slytherin to reply... _decently_.

He had the impression that if the Order or Hermione and Ron knew about the letters, they would be against what he was doing. They would come up with all the regular reasons, such as 'it's dangerous, he's a Death Eater's son, he's an enemy, it could be a trap, it makes no sense'. But nothing made sense anymore, and they had started it all by not telling him anything, so he didn't care about what they thought. It wasn't their business. It was his own entertaining little crisis.

He looked at Hedwig, more precisely at the ring around her right leg that he had already observed closely when she had arrived. _I__f you wish to write again. _

"He's actually welcoming me to write back," Harry muttered under his breath. He must be completely desperate or has gone nuts... and I'm even more desperate or insane because I want to reply.

But what if the ring was a tracing device and a bunch of followers of the Dark Lord were suddenly going to pop up and destroy the whole street? How would he explain that to Dumbledore?

Actually, Harry's feelings sensed nothing wrong in Malfoy's behaviour. His rival had most probably envisioned every possible prospect this exchange of letters could bring, and he had found them improbable since he had replied. What could be the problem?

He reached for his copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 by Miranda Goshawk, grabbed his quill and inkbottle again, leaned on the wall and used his book as desk, like he had done the previous time. Passing the end of the quill on his cheek, he started organizing in his mind what he should talk about.

But what the bloody hell are you supposed to say to your worst enemy? 'Hi, lovely day, don't you think? How is your mother, well I hope. Simply can't wait to see you again'

This wasn't starting well.

"Ok, focus Harry," he told himself, passing his hands through his hair. "Find some sort of subject that doesn't involve the fact that you're corresponding with a Death Eater's son. Do we share a common interest? I bloody hell hope not... Ah, yes we do. Quidditch... School? No need to talk about it now... My life? I can complain, that's for one. He'll agree, I'm with muggles for Merlin's sake."

_Dear Rival, _

_I'm quite shocked your response wasn't a Howler ready to yell insults to me. It would have freaked my muggle relatives out... which would have been enjoyable. They aren't treating me like a slave anymore, but aren't exactly very pleasant; not that you would care. They tell me to stay in my room all the time, just asking me to come down to eat. I can barely go to the bathroom without their authorization. Of course, they don't say no; they're afraid of wizards. _

_Unfortunately, I can't run away since, as you said, I'm being watched, monitored and kept under 'control'. I'm getting quite sick of it. I need to correspond every three days so they all know I'm okay, and they don't even say anything besides 'hi, nothing's happening, write back'. _

_And the weasel and the fur ball have names, you know. Ron and Hermione are probably having a lot of fun together, telling me that they're doing nothing good. But then again, you don't have Crabbe and Goyle with you, do you? I bet your father is keeping a low profile, just like every other dark wizard of his kind. And I guess you're obliged to follow him, am I right? _

_Do you know what's going on with Quidditch? Can you give me any news about that?_

_By the way, I see there is no latch on the ring you gave Hedwig, and so you must have used magic to put it on, but how could you? We aren't allowed to do magic out of school. _

_Very alarmed by the fact that I'm hoping to receive your reply soon,_

_Harry Potter_

As always, Harry reread what he had written before doing the same ceremony of folding the parchment, finding a suitable envelope, placing it in, writing Draco's name on the cover and handing the letter to Hedwig after having woken her up.

"Here you go Hedwig," Harry said, handing her Draco's letter and one he had prepared earlier, destined for Ron. "I have no idea what I'm getting into but at least it gives me something to wait for."

She hooted, making him see that his waking her up wasn't welcomed, before grabbing the two letters, jumping out of her cage and flying away immediately.

Harry closed his eyes, letting the breeze refresh him. How funny and strange, this was actually working out.

--------------

Draco had been waiting in the owlery and he received the letter two days later, late in the afternoon.

"FINALLY!" he yelled at Hedwig once she had landed, snatching his letter from her beak.

He walked back to his room, as he had done when receiving the previous letter. He sat in front of his desk, and it was just then that he took the letter out of its already ripped envelope.

He read it once, quickly, in order to see what was the context of his letter, then read it a second time, this time more slowly.

He conjured a quill, parchment and inkbottle, but didn't start writing immediately. Instead, he frowned.

Why was he replying so soon? This was wrong, he couldn't actually be happy to write to Potter! This was crazy and foolish. He was a Slytherin, corresponding with a Griffindor. With none other than Harry Potter! He had actually waited impatiently for the reply. This was not like him.

"But I'm bored," he whined as answer. That exasperating muggle-lover is still as hateable. I still want to beat him at Quidditch, I don't sympathise with his case, or rather not really. And it's fun. It takes a bit long, but-

His train of thoughts crashed as an idea came to his mind. Maybe they could use a more effective method of correspondence... a faster method...

He rose from his seat and ran out of his room, slamming his door shut so no one would enter while he was out. He started walking quickly through various hallways but, eager to reach his destination, he easily started jogging until he reached a tall black door. He pressed is ear against it, but no sound could be heard inside, and so he opened it and walked in.

The room's walls were plain black and there were no windows. Floating chandeliers lighted it. Against the walls were shelves, tables and more shelves, on which were pilled up different bottles and vials, in which were floating different unappealing things. On the wooden table in the middle of the room was a knife, more bottles, a small cauldron in which was boiling a greenish liquid easily recognizable as polyjuice potion. Draco knew his father was using it to go out into the real world.

Ignoring everything else, he walked to the last shelf of the room, placed in the far corner. On it were quills, ink bottles and long pieces of rolled up parchment. Biting his lower lip, knowing he was doing this without his father's permission, Draco quickly grabbed two parchments held together by a black ribbon. He pocketed two bottles of ink and quickly walked out with everything hidden under his robes.

He returned to his room without being seen and sat back in front of his desk. He took the first piece of parchment that still laid on his desk and wrote a couple of words on it before folding the sheet and placing it with the first roll of parchment he had taken from his father's sorcery lab. He took his wand and conjured a box in which he placed the first roll of paper with the message and the inkbottle. He quickly wrapped it up and walked to his mirror, doing the exact same thing he had done the previous time, to appear in the owlery a few moments later.

He stood in front of Hedwig, an indecisive look in his eyes. He thought it was kind of strange to hesitate like that, Malfoys are always sure of what they do, they never have second thoughts about anything. Because Malfoys only do the right thing. So, technically, doing this was all right?

Draco shook his head. His father would not approve, he was almost certain about it. Draco Malfoy could not be doing this. Maybe he was being spied on by the Order of the Phoenix. His father had warned him about such an Order, created by Dumbledore back in the Years of Terror, when Voldemort was powerful. He had been told it was back together now, and that Harry Potter knew about it. Maybe he was just a spy.

His hesitation demoralized him and so he decided to end it without further questions.

"Quick, take this," he said to Hedwig who stared at him strangely.

She took the parcel and flew out before Draco had had the time to tell her to do so. He walked to his room, sat in front of his desk and stared at the second roll of parchment he had in his possession. He stayed there, waiting, wondering if this correspondence was going to go somewhere.

--------------

Having only one thing to deliver, Hedwig reached Harry quickly, and so he received Draco's package the next day, after dinner.

Sitting up in his room, on his bed as usual, he opened the box expecting to see something negative come out, might it be a jinxed object, an eternal stinkball from a wizard joke shop or even a Howler. But again, he was surprised to see that his enemy had given him something rather optimistic. Maybe the Slytherin wasn't as bad as he thought. Or maybe he was only witnessing the only bit of amiability a Slytherin like him could give.

His hand supporting his chin, he eyed the contents of the box, questioning if Draco was up to something behind this act of sympathy. They could never become friends, but what was this, then?

Frowning, he took the roll of parchment and opened it. The second piece of parchment fell on his lap, and he slowly picked it up and read it.

_Dear Rival,_

_Write your name on the paper._

It was signed Draco Malfoy.

What is he up to? Harry thought, looking at the paper with attention.

Deciding to try what Draco suggested, Harry took his quill, dipped it in the inkbottle that he had been given, and wrote his name down on the paper. A second later, it disappeared.

Harry's eyes widened. This was strangely familiar

"This is like Tom Riddle's diary!" he exclaimed, remembering the diary he had found in his second year, the one that had nearly killed Ginny Weasley.

A few moments passed, and finally, words started appearing in Draco's familiar writing.

_-Hello, Potter. I think you've guessed what this is?- _

-------------------------------------------------

Your critics, suggestions, ideas, opinions and thoughts are more important than you think. Please take the time to review... or just read on and review later :D


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for the reviews everyone, it is very appreciated.

You know, if you have any ideas for plots or sub-plots, feel free to share them with me. Even though I would have reached the end of the story, I would still read reviews and update chapters in order to improve them. Never forget, I'm writing this for you!

;D

-------------------------------------------------

**Chapter 4: Hazardous Decisions**

Two weeks passed and, incredibly enough, Harry and Draco's correspondence did not end. They chatted about every subject they could think of, from what teachers they preferred, to Quiddich, passing by books, spells and fun hexes. In fact, they had almost reached the point where they truly enjoyed writing to each other, without forgetting that they were enemies.

It had been strange at the beginning, answering questions, as simple as they were, was seen suspiciously; the first always thinking the other was a spy or was going to use the answer against him.

They talked to each other by using Draco's bewitched instant-correspondence scrolls. They were illegal, seen that students used them to cheat at school in the 50s, but also because powerful magicians used them for their sake. At the end of Voldemort's reign fifteen years ago, many had been found circulating in the ministry without their knowing.

Their use of the instant-correspondence scrolls did not give Hedwig a break because they also wrote letters, finding both ways of correspondence fun to pass time and to look forward to the time of day they usually received mail.

On either of their sides, letters from each other were starting to pile up as days passed by. They both kept them, finding it strangely amusing to reread some of them, remembering that they had once been the worst enemies in Hogwarts. They still were rivals, that was sure. More than once, the conversation had ended with a trade of name-calling that left them fuming, gnashing their teeth at the thought of writing again.

But they did, because something always made them do so. The battles of insults were customary at first, but disappeared cautiously as the discussions became more standard.

The Griffindor also continued to write to Ron and Hermione even though his hope of them writing something interesting or inviting him had completely vanished, principally when they had told him that Dumbledore said that he was better off at the Dursleys for the next month because of what was happening with the Order. They never answered his questions when it came to the Order or the Ministry's activities, saying it wasn't safe to talk about it because the letters could be intercepted. It drove Harry up the wall that they didn't answer questions or come to get him. He felt abandoned, even unneeded. The only thing he rather enjoyed by then was talking with Draco.

Harry and Draco usually talked at night with the scrolls, seeing that both of them didn't sleep much and that they were in a better position not to be disturbed. Harry was an insomniac and so using the hours of darkness did not destabilize him when it came to sleep. Draco, on the other hand, fell asleep in front of his scroll more than once when the conversations lasted until five in the morning.

Harry had even mentioned his birthday at one point, and he was almost happy to receive a Howler the next day singing 'happy birthday four-eyes' above uncle Vernon's purple face, over breakfast. Harry had laughed his head off, unlike his aunt, uncle and cousin. That way, he had end up with a punishment to stay in his room for the next week. Harry was in high spirits.

By then, they definitely saw each other differently but something unfathomable, beyond anyone's understanding, remained. And that was their state of rivalry. The hatred had somewhat subsided even though the words 'I hate you' had appeared by then an uncountable number of times on the scrolls.

It was their state of rivalry that made their correspondence interesting, their differences and views, everything was different and brought them hours of debates about ridiculous subjects. As scary as it may sound, they were friends without the friendliness of it all because of the odium that rested between them.

--------------

Harry sat by his windowsill, reading Draco's reply that was just starting to appear.

_-No, I didn't start it. Why? You already wrote your transfiguration essay?-_

Harry scribbled a yes and waited a second as it disappeared.

_-You have no life,-_ materialized on the paper.

_-Well I'm totally bored and I have nothing else interesting to do,-_ Harry wrote.

_-Excuses, excuses. And I that boring, Potter?-_

The Grififndor sniggered. Draco always seemed to turn whatever he was saying against him.

_-Maybe you are over estimating youself, Malfoy, yet again,-_ he answered.

_-You wish. And I never over estimate myself. But it's true, I'm bored too. I think we know more about each other than any one else, know. It is quite pathetic. Who would have thought of it, eh?-_

_-No one saw it coming!-_

_-If Dumbledore heard of it, he would die on the spot. Or maybe you've already told him and are transferring everything I say to him and all your little friends,-_ wrote Draco.

_-We've already had this discussion three thousand times before, you lunatic. I'M NOT A SPY!- _

_-Okay then, okay. I guess you could come over for lunch then, -_ continued Draco, smiling.

_-Yeah, and have a horde of Death Eaters fight each other to see who will get to fill my glass.-_

_-Now, now, they wouldn't lower themselves to that. You are Harry Potter, after all. It would disgust them.-_

_-Very funny. And spending a summer with Death Eaters is not on my list of things to do, thank you very much,-_ wrote Harry, thinking of what could happen then.

_-You consider me a Death Eater?-_

_-... well, maybe not, you personally, but your family in general, yes.-_

_-I prefer not answering anything related to that, I wouldn't want to put anyone in a tight spot, now would I?-_

_-And where would this so called 'tight spot' be?-_ mocked Harry.

_-A gutter.-_

Harry laughed, though he knew a piece of truth had to be hidden in Malfoy's words, a piece of it was hidden everywhere, even in his lies.

_-I feel slightly vulnerable saying this, but talking to you is incredibly amusing,-_ he wrote down.

Now it was Draco's turn to smile.

_-Too bad it is just like that through paper... but maybe it is for the best.-_

_-No, being face to face with you would be... I don't really know, but it wouldn't be wrong or anything. In fact, seeing you this summer would be... fun. Yeah.-_

_-So the whole coming over to a Death Eater's house wouldn't preoccupy you that much anymore?-_

_-No, it wouldn't really. I think I trust you,- _Harry answered, after a very long pause.

_-That's what I thought,-_ Draco scribbled.

_-What?-_

_-You're mad, Potter,-_ Draco stated.

_-No I'm not,-_ Harry wrote quickly. _–You don't know what its like to live here, with MUGGLES!-_

_-My father is a DEATH EATER, Potter. He would have 'the right' to kill you if you came!-_

_-I know!-_ Harry wrote, almost happily.

_-You're suicidal.-_

_- Of course not,- _he replied._ –I think this could be... important or something.-_

_-The idea of me being a spy about to send you to Voldemort didn't pass in your mind?-_

Harry smiled, ruffling his hair once again, but his eyes narrowed.

_-I think we've debated this enough. I don't think you are a spy, and deep down inside, you know I am not one. And if I have to face Voldemort, I will. But I don't think you would be the one who brought me to him.-_

_-We've been enemies for five years, Potter.-_

_-I'll take my chances.-_

Back in his home, Draco smirked. He was such a Griffindor.

_-You want to come and spend the rest of the summer with Death Eaters, followers of the Dark Lord who wants to kill you,-_ Draco wrote disbelievingly.

_-I'm not going to visit them, I want to see you. You don't know what my life here is like. I was abandoned by my friends, theses muggles I live with hate me, and I don't care what you think but I think I've learned to cope with you well enough.-_

-Now now, I don't want to lose my only distraction, do I? You come here, you die, and I'm bored again. It's a dreadful idea.-

Harry chuckled.

_-So that's what I am for you, eh? A diversion from boredom. But then again, you did say I was a distraction...- _

_-Yes, I'm astounded you're talented enough to do that. But why do you seem annoyed by my calling you that? You would have preferred that I use a different term, my dear rival?-_

_-Unfortunately, I can't expect that from you,-_ Harry wrote, a smile on his face. _–But really, I want to get out of here. Please.- _

_-Fine with me then,-_ he wrote.

_-So you'll get me out of here?-_ Harry asked.

_-... All right.-_

--------------

Draco knocked on the door leading to his father's study. The door was extremely large and seemed incredibly heavy, being made of black mahogany wood. It was skilfully engraved with designs but no handle was visible, suggesting the use of magic to open it.

Draco waited a moment and a sound was heard on the other side of the panel. A second later, both doors opened wide, revealing a vast rectangular room. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling by shelves themselves filled by books of all sizes and languages, all covering the topic of magic. The floor was carpeted, and so no sound could be heard while walking on it. If they would have, they would have echoed through the room in a quite annoying way. The farthest pan of wall consisted of a stone fireplace in which gigantic blue and orange flames were dancing.

In front of the fireplace was a gigantic desk, made of wood, except for the cover, which was of black marble. A large, comfortable-looking armchair was behind it, and Lucius Malfoy was sitting in it, shoulders on the desk, fingers crossed together as he watched his son approach.

Suddenly, the Slytherin wasn't so sure of himself anymore but he took his best courteous and single-minded look and entered the room, walking calmly up to his father's desk even though the little voice inside his head was screaming at him to turn around and leave because his question was as stupid as asking if the sky was one day going to fall.

"Father," he said with a little bow, sitting down in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. "I have a serious matter to discuss with you."

Lucius looked at him, waiting for him to start, but Draco had a gut feeling that he already knew everything. How couldn't he? His father was the master of the house, all the house elves obeyed him, he knew everything that was going on at all times. How couldn't have he noticed that his son stayed up until the wee hours of the morning talking with Harry Potter through his own correspondence scrolls? This was insane. Draco felt like disappearing in his seat. But he couldn't. Because he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not do such things.

"As I am sure you have noticed, I have been corresponding with someone for the past two weeks," Draco started, trying to smooth down the whole affair. "We have talked about it, and I am thinking of inviting my correspondent here for the rest of the summer."

Lucius didn't move a muscle, his eyes staring at his son unblinkingly. Draco now felt slightly uneasy, though he tried not showing it.

The silence grew and grew to a point of becoming intolerable.

"Would you accept?" he finally asked.

Draco noticed some sort of shadow passing in his father's eyes, like he was trying to hide all he knew, but some sort of irritation was definitely perceptible in his posture.

Draco smiled interiorly. His father had showed him how to analyse anyone's posture or actions in order to know what they were thinking or feeling about him or about what he said. He had become so good in doing it that even his father couldn't hide certain things from him.

"... Harry... Potter..." Lucius said very slowly. "Here."

The Slytherin felt pale. This wasn't going so great, as he had expected, his father already knew about everything. He was sure that if he asked, his father could pinpoint the moment where he received the first letter or when they truly started corresponding.

But he had a plan, he always had some sort of plan to turn these kind of situations into his advantage.

"Well... you see, I think I could make him adjust to our ways," Draco said without loosing his composure. "In fact, he's the one who proposed to come. It could be a good sign. He could be joining our side."

"He could be spying on us."

"I doubt it greatly, father," Draco said slowly, letting his assurance sink into every word that came out of his mouth.

"If you are sure about this, I allow you to carry on," Lucius whispered. "But I do not think this is a great idea... Keep an eye on him."

"Thank you, father," Draco said, genuinely relieved, though not quite understanding why his father was accepting so easily.

Yes, his argument was strong, but to the point of accepting immediately? Definitely not. Something was fishy.

He rose from his seat and with one last look at his father, turned around and walked away. The doors reopened for him to pass and shut behind him. Once this happened, a black figure reappeared in the unoccupied chair Draco had sat beside.

Voldemort.

"Do you think this is bright, my Lord?" Lucius asked.

"... Interesting," Voldemort hissed, his long fingers running up and down his jawbone. "... Very interesting."

"And so this is not... a dim-witted idea?"

"It's perfect," Voldemort continued. "We bring him on our side... we make him trust... we kill him from inside... he dies... I win."

Lucius smiled and so did his master.

--------------

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_I wouldn't have sent you a letter unless it was something truly important, and I think the decision I have just made is one. _

_I'm sick of staying here, with these muggles I'm ashamed to say are a part of my family. I've decided to leave, but I do not wish to go to Ron Weasley's house for the rest of the summer because of personal reasons that you could not truly understand. I've found someone else who's agreed to keep me until the beginning of the school year._

_I'm certain you'd disagree with me if I told you immediately with whom I am staying, but I want you to know that I'm sure this choice is fine. I have corresponded with this person for quite some time and I have figured that I think I could try to change him from the path he's bound to take if we don't do something about it. We've been able to write to each other without sending Howlers flying around, which is a gigantic improvement already. _

_And so I want to repeat to you that I know what I'm doing, that I do not need to be continually protected and that you can't change my mind. I'm leaving tomorrow to the Malfoy residence where I will spend the rest of the summer, with Draco Malfoy. _

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

-------------------------------------------------

I love suspense... 3

Please review...


	5. Chapter 5

Very big thank yous to Serena24, luin-lote, DarkFox, CarpeNoctem17, PHIceAngel, DarkJade1, Ms. Eden, jakie, Kary-Asakura, Cerebris, emilia, Jude and Rayne-Jelly who support my writing! I love you!

-------------------------------------------------

Chapter 5: Welcome... With Me 

Harry smiled, staring at the street visible out of his room window. The sun was at its highest point in the sky, and so Draco would be arriving soon. He would be taken away from this place and wouldn't spend time with people that didn't understand him. He was going towards danger, he knew it, but he was happy about it. From all his adventures, its what he had learned. He couldn't stay away from danger, he couldn't live without it. He thought maybe it came from his Griffindor side. His father's side.

Keeping his eyes on the end of the street, he saw Hedwig arrive again. She seemed tired and Harry couldn't blame her. She didn't stop delivering his mail every day.

She landed on the windowsill, dropped an envelope and fluttered towards the drainpipe out the window. Harry eagerly grabbed the letter, opened it and read it aloud.

_Dear Rival,_

_I didn't know you were this poor. This house is a total dump _(Harry smiled, knowing that the house was envied by muggles for its modernity and cleanness). _And the weasel has worst? Let me laugh. _

Now, I'm sitting on the fourth house's rooftop from your left, at your window, of course. I'm wearing an invisibility cloak I borrowed from my father. He told me you had one too. In fact, he recalls it comes from your father and that he himself used it at school. Well, it's beside the point.

_Use your cloak to fly up to, wait... number 11. Bring everything you own. I'll bewitch your school trunk when you reach me. I can't seem to approach your house. It's protected by magic or something. _

_Hurry up, I don't want to get caught by that wizard living at number 16. _

_Draco Malfoy_

Harry smiled widely even if a few questions were running loose in his mind. A wizard living at number 16?

He turned around and glared at his school trunk. He couldn't cover himself and the trunk completely with his cloak, it wasn't wide enough.

I'll have to risk being seen, he thought, slipping on his travelling cloak, on top of which he placed his invisibility cloak.

He climbed on his broom after opening the window, grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage and tried to find a good position. Hedwig's cage went on his side while his trunk went on the other, taking support on his leg and on the limb of his broom. The trunk wasn't fully covered at all, but he could do better than that without completely loosing his balance.

He gave his room one last look, stared at the letter on his bed explaining his departure to his muggle relatives and gave Hedwig a nod, though she didn't see him do it because of the invisibility cloak.

"Okay," Harry said. "I'm going."

He rose from the ground very slowly, his trunk tilting form one side to another dangerously. He passed the window and slowly turned towards the house Draco had indicated to him. He accelerated and reached house number eleven rather quickly. The landing, on the other hand, was a total catastrophe. The trunk, pushed by the wind and Harry's inclination, fell on the roof with a loud bang. It opened and its contents spread everywhere. Harry even saw some of his old school books glide to the side of the roof and fall towards the ground below.

"You are so agile, Potter," an invisible Draco commented. "Accio, accio, accio."

Harry watched as his things flew into the air right back into his trunk.

"Accio... Accio... Reparo..." Draco's voice said over and over again, pointing his wand at everything Harry had let fall out of his trunk.

Once everything was back in the school trunk, Harry saw a part of Draco's body pop out of thin air and he decided to take off his own invisibility cloak.

There was a very awkward moment of silence as they met. Usually, they both would have been angry of seeing each other... but this time... with all that they had sent each other...

This was the first time they saw each other since all of this had started. Draco pretended not to be uncomfortable by raising his head a little, looking Harry up and down like he had never seen him properly before but the Griffindor couldn't help feeling his cheeks redden, partly understanding for the first time what he was doing.

He was leaving the Dursleys, he was disobeying a direct order from Dumbledore, he was undoubtedly deceiving his friends, he was... kind of contradicting everything he thought. But worst of it all, he was going to a Death Eater's house! He was throwing himself into death's embrace! This truly was suicidal!

He didn't feel so sure anymore. He liked writing to Draco and talking to him through the correspondence scrolls... but could he actually do it in person? After all they had went through before, even though they hated each other's guts?

"This is kind of strange," he muttered under his breath, escaping Draco's prying look.

Draco didn't want to admit it, but he felt the same. He was standing on a muggle house's roof, rescuing Harry Potter and inviting him to his house. No, putting it that way was wrong. He wasn't rescuing Harry Potter, he was rescuing himself from dying of boredom. He was... becoming friends with his worst enemy?

Hell no!

As far as he knew, he still hated him and the Griffindor still hated him. They were just... mutually helping each other for each of them to avoid something. They still offended each other on paper, and even in person, it wasn't about to change. Well, he wasn't about to change his ways, anyway.

"So," he sniggered. "Hogwarts' second-best seeker can do a Wronski Feint without killing himself but he can't balance a trunk on his broom?"

Harry's embarrassed look disappeared in less than half a second. Oh no, nothing had changed between them.

"Excuse me but I'd like seeing you try it," he said hotly. "And second-best to whom? Surely not you."

"Of course me! You only beat me out of pure luck or by accident. I-"

"Spare me your nonsense," Harry growled, rolling his eyes.

"You are going to have to admit it at one point, Potter," Draco said, smirking.

"Well then we are going to have to have a one on one game. I feel the responsibility of putting you in your place, Malfoy," hissed the green-eyed Griffindor.

"And where would that be? Under you, gasping for air? Or do you have the pretension of imagining yourself on top?"

Harry was about to reply but his face just turned a nice shade of crimson.

Draco beamed. It was so amusing to shock the poor boy.

"No! I mean, yes... I-" Harry yelled, hands forming fists, the colour not leaving his face. "You-"

"Oh, calm down you nut, and lets get going, we're a bit... how can I put it..."

"Noticeable?"

"Exactly. You're going to have to follow the sound of my charming voice, all right?" he said. "We can't risk being seen."

"Sure," Harry answered, deciding not to comment about the 'charming' part. "But for my trunk?"

"Yes, yes," Draco said impatiently.

He must have swished his wand and muttered a spell, but Harry did not see it happen. All he saw was that his trunk seemed to shrink to the size of a purse, just like his owl cage.

"How can you do that?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Shrink things? You don't even listen to Flitwick's class, do you?" Draco said mockingly.

"No, not that!" Harry said edgily. "Do spells. And don't just answer 'by flicking my wand, idiot'."

Draco chucked.

"My wand is protected. I can do spells without the Ministry knowing about it. It works like a radar, actually. Any wand younger than seven years is like a blimp on their screen and they know when you use it in summer. I took the blimp 'off' their screen," he answered. "I'm sure I could do the same thing to your wand when we get to my house . . . now come on, let's go."

Harry grabbed his purse-sized trunk and own cage and easily hid it under his invisibility cape.

"Follow me!" he heard Draco say, his voice trailing off into the sky.

Harry pushed himself off the roof and followed Draco higher and higher, through puffy clouds, feeling his cloak get covered by mist and the air getting considerably colder. He knew why Draco did this. He did not want him to see the ground below them so he could return, possibly show Aurors, where the Malfoys lived. He couldn't blame his prudence. He was a Griffindor, the other was a Slytherin.

"So what can we talk about?" Draco's voice trailed off, indicating him that they were turning more and more towards the north-west. "We've covered nearly all the subjects of conversation, haven't we?"

"I'm sure we can find something that was left unsaid," replied Harry, realizing that it was the first actual time that they had a conversation invisible face to invisible face. "How about OWLs? How were your grades?"

"Ah, I received them just yesterday," the Slytherin replied, feeling strange about talking with the Boy-Who-Lived. "Everything went relatively well. Except for Divination and maybe Transfiguration didn't go as planned. I'll have to coax McGonagall into letting me in NEWT level Transfiguration."

"I can't imagine how Potions went for me. I bet Snape is not going to let me in his class just to piss me off."

Draco laughed.

"Good!" he muttered. "You have to have a little trouble in that domain, Golden-Boy. If not, it wouldn't be fair. Now, I think I need to prove you that I'm a better flyer."

Harry, who had been ready to snap back about the Slytherin's own Golden-Boy status, suddenly saw the puff of clouds in front of him be pierced by an invisible form.

"HEY!" he shouted, racing after his rival, unable to see him. – This is worst than finding a snitch, he's fucking invisible."

Harry dived under the clouds until he could see the ground, far, far beneath him. A sudden rush of adrenaline ran through his veins as he made a 90 degree angle to zoom back up in the clouds. He heard the Slytherin's irresponsible laughter much farther than he thought he was. Smiling himself, the Grffindor started the chase. Mist quickly covered his glasses and so he tried a cleaning spell while going like a bullet towards what he thought was Draco's direction. He could hear the other boy's cloak swish every time he turned or caught different air streams. Reaching him was not that hard but it was keeping track of him that was remarkably hard. Draco evidently knew most of all the Quidditch moves and took full advantage of it.

Potter maybe did have flying abilities in his blood but Draco knew all the techniques and could use them like no other flyer could, that is why his dives, angles and sudden changes of speed and methods confused the Griffindor.

At one point, Harry was sure to have felt him tapping on his shoulder and it enraged him. The Slytherin could beat him in anything but not Quidditch. He would not allow it.

Harry doubled his pace, bringing his Firebolt to its speed limit. He heard a swishing sound on his left, which meant Draco had either dived underneath him or turned right to encircle him again. Harry decided to go in height to confuse the Slytherin to make him think he did not know where he was at. What a mistake.

The blond soon came back through the clouds, making them diverge on his path. Harry followed the trail from above and soon arrived right above him. A smirk appeared on his features as he arrived to dive in front of the other flyer, front of his broom facing downwards and finally looping underneath him, now being completely overturned. He could almost picture the Slytherin's shocked expression.

He turned his broom in one quick movement, now being the symmetric image of the other seeker. Harry's cloak opened and so Draco saw him but made no sign of running away. In stead, he himself dived in a spiral, contouring the Griffindor. His hood fell and Harry had a glimpse of his smiling, mist covered face.

Neither of them knew at what speed they were going but it was more than fast.

Harry saw Draco pull out his wand and had a moment of hesitation, wondering if he should reach for his own wand. Before he had to make that choice, Draco summoned what definitely looked like a snitch. With one look at his green-eyed, bespectacled rival, he let it go and it zoomed in front of them leaving a trail of blue and silver.

At that moment, Harry felt as if the decision he had made by leaving the Dursleys was the best of his life. Rushing against his rival for the grasp of the snitch. This was better than any Quidditch game. A true one on one. And he wanted to win.

The snitch was leading the way to Draco's house, it was obvious. It dived under the thin layer of clouds, bringing the two boys under a shower of raindrops that was just starting its descent towards the ground. Neither of them focused on time. Hours passed and neither the cold or the rain stopped them. The chase did not cease until they arrived at destination.

Harry saw the snitch plummet towards the ground and followed it, ready to catch it. The snitch kept going faster and faster but was unable to escape Harry's hand once he had caught it. Landing on the grass, he watched his rival land next to him, gasping for breath.

"You might be good but you're not that good!" Harry scoffed, shaking the snitch in his face.

Draco looked like a child who had just received a broken gift.

"I'll get my revenge, Potter!" he said derisively. "You took advantage of my good-nature and-"

"HA!" exclaimed the Griffindor, walking around, making use of his stiff legs.

Harry did not listen to what Draco was saying. Instead, he inspected the land around them. They had passed mountains, forests, swamps, and woodlands to finally land in a rather ordinary vast plains

"These grounds, starting at the end of the mountains all the way to the other side, belong to my family," Draco said, taking off his invisibility cloak, Harry following suit.

"Where's your home?" Harry asked tentatively.

"There, idiot!" Draco said, pulling out his wand and muttering something that Harry thought was probably a family motto.

Harry saw with his own eyes a majestic manor, seeming more like a castle than anything else, with uncountable towers and windows appear in front of him. The castle itself almost had an ambiguous aura in it, something mysterious and exquisite that Harry immediately got fond of. A few chimneys were smoking while others didn't and balconies were found here and there. No living being could be seen at the windows. For entry, there was a drawbridge on which was engraved what Harry recognized as the Malfoy Crest.

"Welcome at Malfoy Manor," Draco said proudly.

Harry was lost for words. A nasty comment couldn't even reach his lips.

--------------

Harry and Draco, tiered of flying, decided to walk to the manor from where they were. They walked in a trail leading right up to the drawbridge that came down at their feet when they arrived.

They walked through and Harry found himself in a tiled interior courtyard in the middle of which was a very nice fountain and multiple floral arrangements where Harry saw flowers and plants he had never imagined of seeing.

"This way," Draco said briskly, bringing him back to reality.

Harry followed Draco through an opened hallway, which contoured the whole courtyard, passing under some sort of arced portico. They entered the main building and climbed two sets of stairs, walked through other hallways and just as Harry was about to ask if they were there yet, Draco stopped in front of a door.

He opened it and Harry walked into Draco's room.

He immediately liked it, of course.

Draco retransformed Harry's trunk and owl cage and placed them on the lounger while Harry still looked around.

"There's going to be a bed for you there," Draco said, indicating him the lounger's position. "I'll ask the house elves to bring one up."

Harry didn't say anything, now inspecting the little objects that were placed on Draco's desk.

"Are you hungry?" Draco asked, throwing his coat, first shirt and invisibility cloak on his bed. "Hello?"

Harry still didn't answer, evidently lost in thought.

"Earth to Potter... earth to Potter..." Draco muttered.

"Thanks," Harry finally said without taking his eyes off the desk.

"For wha-?... oh," Draco said, hands in his pockets, a light blush colouring his cheeks.

He walked to the door and turned the handle before turning to Harry again.

"Don't mention it... " he said. "... ever."

Harry smiled and turned towards his rival, seeing that he too had a smirk on his face.

-------------------------------------------------

Read on or review, please!


	6. Chapter 6

Aghr... summer's almost over -_- I'm going back to school next week. Since I don't really have Internet at home (I can only go on a little portable computer connected to the telephone line, from time to time), I'm going to be able to read fanfiction in the computer lab. I won't be able to write there because I don't want anyone in my entourage to know that I write slash ^_^ it's my little secret... LOL  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 6: Passing Time  
  
After a rather copious meal, Draco vaguely gave Harry a tour of his home, carefully avoiding passing near his father's study in order to steer clear of an encounter. Draco was still unsure about his father being all right with Harry's presence.  
  
He showed his rival the kitchens and the dinning room, the owlery, the library and the living rooms, the laboratory and the old dungeon in the lower levels in which his great-great-great-grandfather had locked up muggles and tortured them. Harry was glad to see that only ghosts spent their time down there, even though there were suspicious trails of blood on some of the walls.  
  
Draco had also showed him the astronomy tower and the mostly unused Quidditch field on the other side of the plain, his mother's interior and exterior gardens and a second library, this one being completely devoted to the dark arts.  
  
Harry quickly noticed that Draco wasn't showing him all the rooms, but tried to ignore it. The Malfoy family had secrets, some he was sure he didn't want to know about.  
  
They came back to Draco's room at about ten o'clock and found it neatly prepared to accommodate the two young wizards.  
  
Both too tiered to take a shower or bath, they simply slid inside their pyjamas then in their beds and quickly went silent to the sound of the wind outside.  
  
Harry had a hard time getting to sleep, sure to have heard voices screaming or mocking laughs, but every time, he would just shake it out of his head after one look at Draco's serene face. At one point, he felt like pouring a little water on his face to wake him up, but decided not to.  
  
Afterwards, for the first time since June, he fell asleep and was able to rest.  
  
~~~  
  
The next day . . .  
  
"With who do you play Quidditch?" Harry asked, looking down the tower they had climbed up, from where they could clearly see the Quidditch field.  
  
Draco didn't answer very quickly and took time in walking to the side of the tower and lean on it before taking Harry's question in consideration.  
  
"I played with Crabbe and Goyle when they came over, but it wasn't much fun so I asked my dad to bring on real players," he said. "So he gave me a bewitched team for my last birthday."  
  
"A bewitched team?" Harry asked, eyebrows cocked up.  
  
"You're so undereducated, Potter. You 'program' what kind of players you want and how strong you want them to be and after that you just play against them," Daco explained, rolling his eyes. "It's like a virtual game in which you play in real life."  
  
"Like a video game in which you are a player," Harry mumbled.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Oh nothing, never mind," Harry said smiling.  
  
He stared at the Quidditch field for a moment, thinking of the bewitched team.  
  
"Can we try it?" Harry asked eagerly.  
  
"Well... later," Draco said uneasily. "The command box is in one of my father's rooms and I can't go ask him right now."  
  
"Fine," Harry sighed. "So what do we do?"  
  
"Lets take a walk," Draco proposed. "I'm sure we could spot magical creatures near the forest, and besides, there's nothing really interesting to do inside right now."  
  
~~~  
  
Harry and Draco sat on their backs, staring at the sky above them, hidden in the nicest part of the meadow, near the forest's bordure, far from the mansion. Draco passed his hands behind his head and sighed.  
  
"So what is it really like, living with muggles?" he asked to Harry that now had his eyes closed.  
  
"They think you're crazy and don't want to have anything to do with you, they think everything you do is mistrustful, they give you chores to try to show you that they're in command but are in fact scared out of their wits that you'd turn against them so they aren't too harsh, but they don't give you proper clothes or as much food as you want and they lock you up in your room most of the time," Harry said, eyes still closed. "The best thing to do is to pretend that you're enjoying yourself. It freaks them out."  
  
Draco leaned on his shoulders, looking at him.  
  
"And you're obliged to go there every summer," he said, Harry nodding in answer. "And do you hate muggles?"  
  
Harry opened his eyes and turned his head, looking at Draco upside down, still laying in the grass. Draco didn't move, noticing for the first time how green his rival's eyes were. He shook the thought out of his head.  
  
"Sometimes I do," Harry said, closing his eyes again. "Sometimes I just pity them."  
  
Draco fell back into the grass without another word.  
  
"What do you think Granger and Weasley are doing?" he said finally, smiling nastily. "Together? Alone? Maybe that's the reason they weren't saying much in their letters... they were occupied."  
  
Harry smiled, keeping his eyes closed.  
  
"Yeah, they'll probably end up together," he sighed.  
  
"Another pureblood family going down the drain, then," Draco grumbled.  
  
"Yeah... I never really thought about that... Ron is a pureblood," Harry said. "But what do you have against muggle-born wizards, anyway?"  
  
"What I have against them?" Draco yelled, jumping to his feet. "Don't you know what's happening?"  
  
Harry stared at him wide-eyed, surprised by his reaction.  
  
"Don't you know what Voldemort's trying to impose? Why he fought back?" Draco asked, looking at him with astonishment. "Don't you know what you did when you stopped the Dark Lord?"  
  
Harry got into an upward position, looking at him questioningly.  
  
"There are two sides in humanity's evolution," Draco said. "The wizarding side and the muggle side. In the beginning, both were kept separated but then fools at the ministry decided that they should let muggles learn at Hogwarts and insert them in the wizarding world. But they don't *belong* here! They're not *supposed* to know magic! Right now, almost half of the students at school have muggle relatives! Being a wizard was a privilege, and now its not because the ministry simply finds the first kid they think could become a suitable wizard, give him a wand and there it is. A muggle becomes a wizard. If we go on like this, in a couple hundred of years, purebloods won't exist and so magic will very slowly fade out. It's why a pureblood is always stronger than a mudblood. But those fools don't get it! They're simply destroying us from the inside, saying that if muggle-borns have the potential, they can become wizards."  
  
Draco paused but went on before Harry could interrupt him.  
  
"Now they don't see it," he said. "All they can see is that mudbloods seem to be able to adapt to our civilisation. They don't see that as generations pass, there's less and less wizard blood going in their descendants. The Dark Lord was the first to realize that everything that was happening was wrong and that the Ministry wasn't governing the right way at all. He fought back, but they didn't want to listen. And so Lord Voldemort was forced to use the strong way. And everything was doing great until *you* showed up."  
  
"But Voldemort was killing innocent people! He was only a ruthless killer that wanted power!" Harry bellowed, getting to his feet.  
  
"He killed the wizards that opposed him," Draco said calmly. "Those who had too much muggle blood in them and those that supported mudbloods too much. Yes, he wanted power, but he also wanted a better wizarding world. Some people are just too blind to see it."  
  
"But... but... But Dumbledore! He knows what's best!" Harry said.  
  
"Dumbledore is a crazy muggle lover, and yet a pureblood," Draco said. "That's why he's so powerful. He wants 'harmony with wizards and muggles'. But he's also blind. He doesn't see that his harmony bullshit is taking that magic away from us."  
  
Harry was speechless.  
  
Draco sighed and patted his shoulder understandingly.  
  
"Now you know the truth," he said. "It might take some time to sink in, and maybe, one day, you'll really understand. You'll choose to live seeing the mudbloods as foes or friends, or simply as nothing."  
  
Harry didn't say anything, unbelieving what he had just heard.  
  
"Just... just take everything I told you out of your mind," Draco said. "Think about it when you're ready."  
  
Slowly, Harry nodded and turned towards his rival.  
  
Draco smiled and Harry saw that it wasn't a smirk or a mocking grin, but a true smile.  
  
"Come on," Draco said. "Lets go back."  
  
Harry followed Draco in silence, deciding that he should do like his rival suggested and think about everything once he was ready to understand.  
  
Draco didn't say anything either, secretly thinking that maybe he had had a bad opinion of his rival and that maybe the Griffindor wasn't... like he thought he was.  
  
~~~  
  
They reached the front door quicker than they would have liked and walked up many staircases to reach the third floor balcony where they wanted to have lunch.  
  
Unfortunately, they found that it was occupied by the last person Draco wanted to be seen by in Harry's presence.  
  
"Ah, I was wondering if you would come to eat here," Lucius said, turning to his son, ignoring Harry. "Of course, you remember Rabastian Lestrange?"  
  
"Yes, of course," Draco said, retrieving his colours. "How do you do?"  
  
But the Death Eater Harry had recognized from the Department of Mysteries sitting in the chair across Lucius did not respond, eyes fixed on Harry, mouth slightly opened.  
  
"Ah, yes," Lucius said. "Harry."  
  
Rabastian's mouth opened and closed like a fish, not understanding what was going on. His eyes moved from Harry to Draco, then to Lucius, waiting for some sort of logical explanation that would make clear the fact that Harry Potter, the one being his master wanted dead, was standing a few metres away from him.  
  
"Well..." Lucius said, eyebrows slightly rising. "Would you mind if we continued this discussion in my study to let my son and his guest eat here?"  
  
Rabastian vaguely shook his head positively, closing his mouth and getting up from his seat to follow his fellow Death Eater. Lucius let him pass in front of him and turned around before walking out.  
  
"Be careful boys," he simply said, something terrifyingly menacing in his voice.  
  
It was only when his footsteps had faded in the hallway that the two teenagers decided it was safe to breathe. Draco chuckled uncomfortably.  
  
"Well, that went well," he said.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said desolately. "I'll be in a body bag by Monday."  
  
"No, because we wouldn't need a body bag because there would be nothing left of you," Draco corrected.  
  
"Haha, very funny," Harry said sarcastically.  
  
"Hey, you're the one that wanted to come, so don't blame me," Draco said seriously.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Harry sighed.  
  
Both sat down at the table at which Draco's father and the other Death Eater had been discussing and were served appetizing meals.  
  
As they ate, Draco couldn't help but be thankful that his father hadn't simply cursed or even killed Harry. He felt embarrassed about caring for Harry's safety, but deducted that it was just because Harry was his only amusement from boredom.  
  
On his side, Harry was starting to enjoy Draco's presence and even noticed that his rival didn't call him names as much as he did before. And it was scaring him, seeing that they were becoming something very close to friends.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
^_^  
  
I know... the slash is going pretty slowly but I want this story to stick together and not just be some sort of 'freaky/obsessive/impossible' kind of story. If you're sharp, you might have noticed a few points of views Draco and Harry are developing...  
  
And for Draco's theory on muggle-borns, I know it's not very clear just like that but a clearer explanation (from Lucius!) is further away... 


	7. Chapter 7

_ Mweheheheheh... well, here it goes!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 7: Dangerous Meetings  
  
Harry sat on his bed, watching the moon shinning right outside Draco's room window. He was tiered, but didn't feel like sleeping because certain things were troubling him.  
  
Dumbledore hadn't replied to his letter, and surely couldn't, seeing that no owl could find him. He was afraid the ministry was looking for him. If they found him, the Malfoys would certainly be in trouble and would maybe even have to flee, and so he would have to go back to the Dursleys and continue writing to Ron and Hermione, and that didn't catch his fancy at all. The second thing that was on his mind was that Draco and he were becoming friends, even thought they were enemies. He knew this wasn't good at all because then, what would happen when he went back to Griffindor at Hogwarts? For sure they would stop hanging around with each other and would become opponents, just like before.  
  
"It's just because we both didn't have anything to do this summer," he murmured in the dark. "It's probably all going to end at platform nine and three quarters."  
  
He sighed, shaking his head. He rose from his bed and walked towards Draco's.  
  
The Slytherin was sleeping soundly, turned in Harry's direction. It was warm outside and a soft breeze often ruffled the blond boy's hair. His dark green pyjamas stuck to his moist body and his covers were pushed away.  
  
~He's good looking,~ Harry though. ~I don't see why he waists his time with Pansy. I guess he deserves someone better than her.~  
  
Harry noticed his wand prodding from under the boy's pillow and smiled.  
  
~Ever so cautious,~ he thought.  
  
He thought about what Draco had told him about purebloods and muggle-borns and found it all but simple.  
  
~If my parents were both wizards, I'm a pureblood,~ he thought. ~But then, if mom wasn't wizard-born, she's a mudblood, and that would mean that I'm not really a pureblood because I'm related to muggles . . .~  
  
He shook his head again, ruffling his hair.  
  
He would need to talk to Draco about that. He walked back to his bed and fell asleep almost immediately.  
  
~~~  
  
"Yes," Draco said. "And so if your mother was a mudblood, theoretically, I have more magic that you do because I'm a true pureblood, but then again... since you conquered the Dark Lord... I don't know. I don't understand."  
  
"So you're saying that wizards are 'loosing' magic," Harry grumbled, playing with his toasts over breakfast. "Because they're related to people that aren't wizards."  
  
"You know the song," Draco said, rolling his eyes once again. " 'The wand chooses the wizard.' "  
  
Harry simply nodded and took a bite of bacon, staring at his plate.  
  
"But what about Voldemort?" he asked. "He has muggle relatives!"  
  
"Yes but he's a great wizard because his mother's side was completely pure and because he studied everything in relation with magic. He's probably the second best, only because of Dumbledore," Draco said. "And he knows what's happening, and is trying to prevent it."  
  
Harry stayed silent again, deciding not to argue.  
  
"So what should we do today?" Draco asked casually, absolutely no trace of mockery or smugness in his voice.  
  
"Dunno," Harry grumbled, still thinking about mudbloods. "Why not that Quidditch team of yours?"  
  
"Nah... it'll be boring. We could go get our school stuff, maybe. Not too much students get their supplies around this time so we probably won't be seen," Draco said.  
  
Harry agreed silently.  
  
"I... I'll have to tell my father," Draco added uneasily.  
  
Harry looked up and stared at the Slytherin for a moment.  
  
"What do you think students will say if they get to know that I was at your place over the summer?" he asked.  
  
Draco stared at him in a way that made him feel stupid of not knowing.  
  
"They'll think I'm nuts, they'll think you're joining the dark side, they'll think you're mad, they'll think my father kidnapped you, and so on, and so on . . ."  
  
"Got it."  
  
Draco smiled and looked away, concentrating on his plate.  
  
"So..." he said. "No news from the outside world? I mean... do you think Dumbledore is looking for you?"  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
"I don't know, but probably yes," he answered. "After what happened in June... bah..."  
  
Draco looked at his rival, still running his fork through his food, and found himself wondering why the Griffindor didn't have a girlfriend.  
  
~What do I care about that?~ he mentally argued.  
  
But another question came to his mind.  
  
"Harry... you might think this is an odd question but..." he started. "Do you... really hate the Dark Lord?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened and he stared at the Slytherin in front of him.  
  
"No," he said slyly. "I don't hate him. I loathe him."  
  
Draco gave out a little smirk and stared staring at his plate again.  
  
"Okay, let's get ready to go," he finally said. "I'm using the bathroom first!"  
  
"Draco, you have at least fifty bathrooms here," Harry quoted. "I don't see the point."  
  
"You forget I have a strict order to keep you under my guard," Draco said, getting up from his place. "We can't be separated. I don't want my father to find you alone somewhere. He might change his mind and kill you and I won't have anything to keep me entertained."  
  
"So I'm entertaining?" Harry laughed.  
  
"In a manner of speaking," Draco said smugly. "Now come on."  
  
~~~  
  
Harry sat on the floor, still in his pyjamas, waiting near the bathroom door for Draco to come out and let him have his turn under the shower. Without getting up, he turned sideways and knocked on the door loudly.  
  
"Come on!" he said.  
  
"Manners, four-eyes," the door commented. "I was freshly painted last week."  
  
"You know, you have quite an elaborate vocabulary, for a door," Harry grumbled, knowing it was at least the fifth time the door insulted him. "And you're supposed to be *polite*."  
  
"I'm only polite to my masters," the door said, just as a lock was heard on the other side.  
  
The door opened and hot air quickly steamed out. Draco appeared in the doorway, dripping with water, a towel tied around his waist.  
  
Harry couldn't help but notice that the Slytherin didn't have such pale skin and, even if he was rather thin, had well formed muscles.  
  
"See something you like?" Draco mocked, making Harry turn red.  
  
"I was just wondering if you worked out," he said.  
  
"Of course I do," the Slytherin answered. "And you should too. Not just for fitness but also for girls."  
  
Harry smiled and looked away.  
  
"I'll go get dressed, you just take your shower. I'll be here when you get out," Draco said, walking away, leaving wet trails on the floor.  
  
Harry entered the bathroom and shut the door before Draco had even reached the end of the hallway.  
  
~~~  
  
A good twenty minutes later, Harry got out of the bathroom in the same state Draco had appeared in. He looked from left to right but couldn't see the Slytherin at all.  
  
~Where is he?~ he asked himself, sighing.  
  
He leaned on the wall and waited for a while but found that he was getting cold. He walked back inside the bathroom and slipped on one of the white bathrobes hanging on the wall.  
  
Back in the hallway, he started pacing.  
  
~Where is he?~ he thought. "Hey, door! Did you see Draco?"  
  
"Why should I tell you?" the door asked. "He's not here, so wait. It was the only thing you were said, so do it. I'm going to sleep now."  
  
~Stupid door,~ Harry thought.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, completely sick of waiting, Harry made his way in the direction he had seen Draco leave after his shower. He walked a long time before arriving at an intersection of three hallways. He took the one on his left, climbed stairs, asked a portrait for directions, passed three living rooms, a library and four statues he was sure he had seen earlier, before realizing that he was completely lost.  
  
~Shit,~ he thought.  
  
He looked down at his bathrobe and sighed.  
  
He tried, with no success, to find his way back to the bathroom and stopped in front of an incredibly large door made of black mahogany wood decorated with designs. There were no handles.  
  
"Potter?" a cold voice behind him asked, sending series of shivers down the Survivor's back and making the scar on his forehead burn.  
  
He turned around and came face to face with Lucius Malfoy, the last person he wanted to see at that precise moment.  
  
"G-good morning Mr. Malfoy," Harry mumbled.  
  
Lucius made a few steps forward, staring at the boy in front of him. He raised his walking stick and tapped his shoulder, probably wondering why he was in bathrobes, but evidently not expecting an answer. His silence made Harry feel very out of place.  
  
"What are you doing here, *alone*?" Lucius asked, emphasizing that last word.  
  
"I-I-" Harry started.  
  
"Father?" another voice down the hallway asked.  
  
Harry turned around and saw Draco running in their direction looking very troubled.  
  
"There you are, Harry," he said, trying to sound calm. "Good morning father."  
  
Lucius glared at his son and eyed Harry again.  
  
"Maybe you need to keep a leash on this puppy," Lucius said coldly. "He might get lost and never be seen again."  
  
"Y-yes father," Draco said, looking at his feet.  
  
Lucius walked towards the mahogany doors leading to his study that opened to let him pass and then closed behind him.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL TOOK YOU?" Draco yelled, the minute his father had disappeared. "I TOLD YOU TO WAIT FOR ME! HE COULD HAVE KILLED YOU! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?"  
  
"CALM DOWN!" Harry yelled back.  
  
Draco growled and started pacing, as if trying to stop himself from hexing Harry to death. Harry couldn't help but find it amusing.  
  
"Relax, Draco," he said. "Come on, let's go."  
  
Draco sighed and walked away, closely followed by his rival. He led him to his room where he changed in wizarding clothes, and once they were both ready, they headed to the main door and started walking away through the plain.  
  
"We won't go to Gringotts because we don't know if people are looking for you and if they are, they might spot you there," Draco said. "I'll buy your things and you'll pay me back later."  
  
"Sure," Harry simply said.  
  
"Now . . . concealius!" the Slytherin muttered, pointing his wand at Harry's forehead.  
  
A moment later, Harry felt an odd sensation creep over his scar. It tickled and chilled until he didn't feel anything at all.  
  
"What did you do?" Harry asked, rubbing his forehead.  
  
"Hiding your scar, you fool," Draco said. "We're going incognito."  
  
"Can you inform me first before you hex me, next time?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Just keep your hood up like me and don't talk in front of people," Draco sighed. "If you do, they might recognize your idiocy and unmask you and wonder-"  
  
"-what the hell I'm doing with a person such important as *you*," Harry finished.  
  
Draco smiled and nodded.  
  
"Okay, we're far enough from the house," he said.  
  
Pointing his wand towards the ground, a patch of dry grass caught fire.  
  
"Follow me," Draco said, stepping into it and pulling out a hand full of floo powder from one of his interior pockets. "Knockturn Alley!"  
  
Draco disappeared in a puff of smoke. Harry took some of the floo powder Draco had given him earlier and did the exact same thing.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry appeared in a store he easily recognized as Borgin and Burkes, the store he had arrived in, back in his second year. Nothing had changed, the shelves were as dusty, the objects were as weird, and the silence was as strong.  
  
"Come on!" Draco whispered. "I don't want the owner to see us here! He'll push us into buying something useless."  
  
Harry got to his feet and followed the Slytherin out of the store, making sure his hood was hiding most of his face.  
  
"This way," the blond boy muttered, walking pass a few not-so-friendly looking wizards.  
  
Harry followed him through Knockturn Alley, then through Diagon Alley in which they entered stores like 'Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions', the Apothecary, the stationery shop and Flourish & Blott's, where they bought books and other accessories listed on a paper Draco had brought with him. They even spotted Fred and George's shop in front of which was a large sign saying 'Grand Opening Soon'.  
  
They ate chocolate sundaes at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor once they were done and just as they were about to leave, familiar faces arrived and sat down at the table behind them.  
  
"Oh dear," Harry muttered, rubbing his forehead. "It's Ron and Hermione!"  
  
Draco pulled his hood completely up and slouched down in his chair. Harry knew he was smiling and it aggravated him.  
  
"Let's listen," Draco whispered, visibly amused.  
  
"No news from Harry?" Ron asked Hermione as he ordered a scoop of strawberry and cocoa ice cream.  
  
"No," Hermione answered. "Dumbledore won't tell me anything!"  
  
"I heard dad saying that he had done something stupid and was now unreachable," Ron said, panic in his voice.  
  
"But Dumbledore said we didn't need to worry," Hermione said.  
  
"Maybe he was just lying!" Ron muttered.  
  
"No, he wouldn't do that," Hermione responded, choosing a tropical sorbet.  
  
"Well Aurors were looking for him," Ron said.  
  
"I know."  
  
Back at their table, Harry was feeling more and more uneasy.  
  
"Come on, Draco, let's go!" he whispered.  
  
"Fine!" the Slytherin said, visibly aggravated.  
  
Draco rose from his seat, threw a galleon on the table and grabbed the three bags containing his new schoolbooks. Harry grabbed his and turned around, ready to follow his rival when Ron pulled back his chair. Harry stumbled and fell flat on his face, one of his bags ripping open.  
  
"Gee, sorry pal!" Ron said, leaning down and picking up the books.  
  
Horrified, Harry didn't dare to move.  
  
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, also getting up.  
  
"Yes," Harry whispered in a barely audible way.  
  
"Come on, Mortimer!" Draco said, using a fake Irish accent and evidently calling Harry.  
  
Harry quickly picked up his books and ran way in the crowd, leaving Ron and Hermione there. He easily reached Draco that slapped him behind the head in a friendly way.  
  
"Come on, Mortimer," he said, still using his Irish accent. "I think we should leave now."  
  
Harry smiled widely and followed him.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I'm getting too much homework! It's killing me! (*killing me . . . killing me softly . . . lalala*) -_-  
  
Please review and note that I'm doing my best in keeping my stories updated! 


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you to all my reviewers! Your opinions really mean a lot to me and it's really encouraging! It pushes me to update faster! ^_^  
  
I saw the movie trailer for Harry Potter 3! It looks so better than the first and second... The two first movies disappointed me greatly, but this one looks okay. And the actor playing Draco is odd but cute ^_^ Only one thing, though... he seems to have BROWN roots in his hair!!! _ What is that all about???  
  
Long(er) chapter, so here it goes. ;)  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 8: Dinner with a Death Eater and a Wordless Farewell  
  
"Wow, that was close," Harry said once they were deep down Knockturn Alley.  
  
"Too close, you fool," Draco commented.  
  
"Hey, you're the one that wanted to stay and listen to their conversation!" Harry said angrily.  
  
"Yeah, and I got the information I wanted to hear!" the Slytherin said. "They're all looking for you!"  
  
Harry stayed silent a moment, simply following his rival through the crowd of wizards.  
  
"And what do you think I should do?" Harry asked.  
  
"Nothing, of course," Draco said. "They'll see you're fine when you're back to school in two weeks."  
  
"Hum . . . yeah . . . we're going back to school soon," Harry said, trying to get a reaction from his rival.  
  
There was none whatsoever. Draco simply kept on walking, giving attentive looks left and right, ignoring Harry for a moment.  
  
Harry sighed and shook his head, clearly seeing that Draco didn't want to aboard that particular subject.  
  
"Here," Draco said, walking into an empty-looking pub.  
  
Harry followed him, keeping his hood down like him, and found the pub quite interesting. Wooden tables were placed mostly everywhere, surrounded by too many chairs of different shape and sizes. The ceiling was low and baskets hung here and there. Bottles containing odd things were rotting on high shelves near the wall, small Christmas lights were hanging around the bar and seemed to have never moved from there. The bar itself took a complete wall. Stools were on one side, two bartenders on the other.  
  
A man with a completely bandaged head was drinking a blue liquid in a beer glass near the front of the pub, two dwarf-like witches were in the middle of it and a wizard with a black cloak was smoking in a far corner. It is only then Harry realized that the two bartenders behind the counter were identical twins.  
  
Very freaky twins, in fact. They both had straight, pale blond hair, pale skin and odd light-blue eyes. Medium height, well built, they didn't look too nice.  
  
"Hello, master Malfoy," they both said, smiling.  
  
Draco nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching.  
  
"Can I use the fireplace?" he asked.  
  
"Of course," they both said. "The door in the back. Don't worry about paying, it's on the house for you and your friend."  
  
"Thanks, boys," Draco said coldly, walking to the designated door, motioning Harry to follow him quickly.  
  
Harry followed him inside a small room only occupied by a very large fireplace.  
  
"I don't think I should be telling you this but this fireplace is illegal," Draco explained. "It's not registered by the Floo powder network and works on a system of its own. We can reach my house directly from here, but we can't go separately. The system will realize that you're not supposed to go there and you will most probably be hexed to death or burned alive."  
  
"That's nice," Harry mumbled.  
  
"So we have to go together," Draco continued. "If you're with me, everything should be fine."  
  
"Is it strange that I'm not reassured?" Harry asked.  
  
Draco smirked.  
  
"Yeah, we'll you'll just have to trust me," he said.  
  
"Should I?"  
  
"Come on," Draco said, pushing him inside the fireplace. "You might want to get rid of those ridiculous glasses for a while. You could get hurt."  
  
Harry took them off and placed them in his pocket. Holding his bags tightly, he waited. He was greatly surprised when Draco held him tightly against him and muttered words that were surely derived from Latin. He found himself appreciating the warmth of his rival's body and feeling dreamy as Draco whispered words close to his left ear.  
  
~What the HELL am I thinking?~ Harry asked himself, greatly troubled.  
  
He shook his head but couldn't stop thinking about it long after Draco had let him go once they had arrived in a sumptuous living room with scarlet walls, armchairs and sofas. As he looked around, he noticed a gigantic painting in which many people were crammed up, watching him with intensity.  
  
A gold plate under the painting said it belonged to a certain 'Lady Mal de Foy'. He watched each person in the painting and deducted that Lady Mal de Foy was the one sitting in a velvet armchair in the middle of the image. She was wearing a long black silk dress, complete with bodice and long sleeves, had wonderfully pale skin, blue eyes and raven-black hair.  
  
"Who is this?" Harry immediately asked.  
  
"Her?" Draco asked. "Lenore Mal de Foy. One of my ancestors."  
  
"She really doesn't look like you," Harry stated. "Except for the eyes."  
  
"She wasn't a Malfoy by birth," Draco said. "She became one after having married a Malfoy. But then he died and she became the head of the family. She was a very, very smart witch, you know."  
  
"And who are the other people crammed up in there?"  
  
"The three blond men are her sons, they always stay with her. The two other, I don't know," Draco said, turning around to get a better look at the painting.  
  
Harry turned around, watching Draco. The Slytherin had preferred settling down on the carpet than in one of the armchairs. He was sitting cross- legged, examining his books and new school uniforms.  
  
Harry asked himself, again, how he could have thought of him like he did when Draco had held him in the fireplace, but no answer came.  
  
~I'm thinking too much,~ he deducted, sitting down in an armchair and finally opening his bags.  
  
"I wonder how the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be," Draco said.  
  
"Me too," Harry said. "Anyone but Umbridge's sister, or something like that."  
  
Draco chuckled.  
  
"Yeah," he said. "Even though I sort of liked having her around."  
  
Draco got up and grabbed his piles of books, motioning Harry to follow him, but stopped midway to the door, looking at him strangely. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry's face, making the Boy-Who-Lived's eyes widen. He muttered a counter curse and Harry felt a fresh breeze pass on his face.  
  
"What was that about?" he asked.  
  
"I found that you looked different without your scar," Draco mocked. "Remember? I hid it before we left."  
  
They walked back to his room where they left their bags and then decided to go eat in the kitchens.  
  
~~~  
  
The next two weeks passed very fast for the two rivals. They practiced Quidditch and Harry found Draco's stimulated beaters very violent yet realistic. Harry helped Draco finish his homework and thought a lot about the time when he had held him in the fireplace, but never felt the same feeling. He decided it had only been his imagination.  
  
They found interesting books in the library, fooled around in the attic and in the lower levels where they found a lot of fascinating dark-arts objects. They talked in the plains outside, and watched wizard-movies, (which are in three-dimension), and never had a glimpse of Lucius until the day before they were supposed to go back to Hogwarts.  
  
"Good morning, son," Lucius said, giving out a fake smile. "Are your bags ready for back to school?"  
  
"Yes father," Draco said submissively. "The house elves prepared everything."  
  
"Unfortunately, you know I won't be able to bring you to King's Cross, this time," Lucius said neutrally. "Many people will be waiting to see Harry and I wouldn't want to . . . how could I put it . . . be in the way."  
  
"Yes, of course father," Draco said.  
  
"Your mother will most probably drop you off," Lucius continued, eyeing Harry this time. "So, Potter, did you enjoy your stay?"  
  
"Yes sir, very much," Harry muttered, very much intimidated by the Death Eater.  
  
"I'm sure you did," Lucius said, smiling nastily. "Hum . . . let's see . . . why don't we eat together tonight, boys?"  
  
The two young wizards shuddered.  
  
"What a nice idea," Lucius continued. "Be in the south hall dinning room at seven o'clock sharp, okay?"  
  
"Yes father," Draco said in a little voice.  
  
"Perfect," his father said, turning around and walking away.  
  
"We are so dead," Draco whispered once his father was far gone.  
  
"I agree," Harry whispered back.  
  
~~~  
  
For dinner, Harry and Draco put on their best robes, Draco's being dark green and Harry's being dark blue. At five to seven, they walked out of Draco's room and made their way through the mansion.  
  
Harry had never seen this dinning hall before and was very impressed by it. The room itself was a lengthen rectangular shape with picture windows at the far end. The ceiling was incredibly high and the walls had long and imposing windows every ten feet or so. No portraits could be found here, and no statues either. There was a long black, rectangular table in the center of the room, taking up a lot of place. Harry quickly calculated that there were twenty-five chairs, twelve on each side and a very elegantly sculpted one at the far end, in which Lucius Malfoy was sitting. Narcissa was sitting on his left, looking much nicer than when Harry had seen her at the Quidditch World Cup, when she looked disgusted to see how many people were there. Harry smiled. He remembered exactly how her face was that last time he had seen her, as if she smelled something terrible.  
  
Her hand was on her husband's and she didn't look up when the two boys entered.  
  
"Good evening, father," Draco said, tilting his head and suggesting a bow.  
  
"Draco," Lucius said, welcoming them. "Harry."  
  
"Please take a seat," Narcissa said, motioning two chairs on Lucius' right.  
  
The chairs moved by themselves and the boys sat down, both looking very tense.  
  
"So you enjoyed your stay, Harry?" Lucius asked, looking at him straight in the eyes.  
  
"Yes, thank you very much for inviting me," Harry said, trying to sound polite.  
  
"How was your trip, dear?" Narcissa asked Lucius, squeezing his hand.  
  
"Quite good," Lucius said, taking a sip or red wine with his available hand.  
  
Draco immediately felt the need to have some too and snapped his fingers on the side of the table. A house-elf arrived immediately and poured him some wine.  
  
"Want some, Harry?" he whispered, sounding very stressed about having dinner with his father.  
  
"Euh..."  
  
Before he had time to object, the house-elf filled his glass. Seeing that Draco was already taking a very large gulp, he took his glass.  
  
"Thank you," he said to the little house-elf that had served him.  
  
It turned around and stared at him as if it had been slapped. Finally, it gave a weak smile and disappeared.  
  
"So, where was your trip?" Draco asked his father.  
  
"The Ministry," Lucius said, smiling. "Polyjuice potion is so useful."  
  
Draco gave a weak smile and started staring at his plate with intensity, playing with his hands under the table.  
  
"I had a meeting with Machair later that day," Lucius continued. "He said the Giants were quite receptive to our proposition."  
  
Harry felt completely out of place. What was he doing? Were they trying to make him crack or something?  
  
"I heard Avery still has a grudge against that mudblood, Hermione Granger," Lucius went on. "You know, he didn't succeed in killing her at the Ministry..."  
  
Harry was starting to get worried. Why was Lucius telling this in front of him? Was this some sort of trap?  
  
"Nott's son says hello, by the way, Draco," Lucius went on, overlooking Harry.  
  
"Theodore?" Draco asked with a shaky voice. "Yes, yes..."  
  
"Jugson and Crabbe were on mission for the Dark Lord," Lucius said to his wife. "And Bellatrix is coming over after tomorrow."  
  
Harry couldn't take it anymore. Mentioning Sirius' killer was the last straw.  
  
"Mister Malfoy" he said loudly, still fuming with anger at the mention of Bellatrix and definitely wanting to change subject. "Could you explain me this whole mudblood and pureblood affair?"  
  
Lucius looked terribly surprised to have been interrupted and Draco looked at his rival as if he was committing suicide.  
  
The Death Eater did not respond immediately and snapped his fingers in the air, making platters and platters of food appear on the table.  
  
He smiled, visibly interested.  
  
"Mudbloods and... purebloods?" he repeated. "You want to know?"  
  
"Yes, please," Harry responded hotly. "I seem to be a little confused about your theory of the Wizarding population."  
  
Lucius' smile widened and he seemed truly pleased.  
  
"At the beginning, there were the Founders," he finally said. "They were the first wizards, purebloods, that saw that they could wield magic. This was thousands of years ago. They formed a very tight circle of wizards that kept their lineage intact, transmitting their knowledge to their descendants. Uncountable wizard families came from them. Then there was what is now called the second line of founders. These wizards, most of them found on chocolate-frog cards, created things that highly developed our knowledge. Hogwarts was founded by second line founders, potions, spells and wizarding objects were created, and so on, and so on. But then, they saw that it was time to enlarge the wizarding population. They decided they could call upon muggle-borns and teach them magic. But a part of these young wizards always stay magic-less. They aren't born with magic. It is fed into them."  
  
Lucius took a bite of steak and went on.  
  
"Everyone thinks they become just like a pureblood, but they are terribly wrong," he said. "They are the weak side of the wizarding world."  
  
"I don't think so," Harry interrupted. "Take Hermione, for example. She's a great witch and her parents are muggles."  
  
"Yes," Lucius chuckled. "But I don't think miss Granger is capable of doing this, now is she?"  
  
Harry watched as Lucius rose his hand and made Harry's wine glass explode. Harry stared at the mess for a moment, then realized the Death Eater hadn't even touched his wand. The thought horrified him.  
  
"Purebloods have magic in their blood," Lucius said, smirking with satisfaction as a minuscule house-elf arrived, ready to clean the mess.  
  
But Lucius didn't give it enough time and, with a single movement of his hand in the air, swept the pieces of glass into the poor creature's face.  
  
It yelped in pain before scurrying away.  
  
"My parents were great wizards," Harry said coldly. "And so am I. And I am able to do many great things. I don't believe what you say."  
  
Lucius watched him for a moment.  
  
"You are part of a prophecy, Potter," he said. "A simple wizard with muggle relatives that has something more... and I have yet to discover what that is."  
  
"Voldemort is a mudblood," Harry hissed.  
  
"What?" Lucius asked, Narcissa and Draco looking up from their plate, staring at Harry with astonishment.  
  
"You heard me," Harry said spitefully. "How could what you are saying be true, if Voldemort is a mubblood?"  
  
"The Dark Lord is different," Lucius said proudly. "And let me correct you on your statement: the Dark Lord *was* a mudblood."  
  
Harry seemed confused, and yet partially understood.  
  
"He killed the part of him that didn't have magic and replaced it," he said. "It's like if he carved out a piece of his soul and graft a suitable one."  
  
"How... how could he have done that?" Harry asked, finding things more and more complicated. ~the Dark Lord killed the muggle part of him? He killed... Tom Riddle?~  
  
"... I'm not allowed to reveal that to you," Lucius said coldly.  
  
Harry sniggered interiorly, knowing that he most probably didn't know and didn't want to show it.  
  
"He possibly killed a pureblood and stole his soul," Harry suggested. "Like a Dementor's kiss."  
  
"Maybe," the Death Eater said.  
  
"And so you want to get rid of mudbloods," Harry stated. "... Because they can't break a glass by thinking of it."  
  
Lucius slammed his fist on the table, making everyone jump. Harry was petrified by the look the Death Eater gave him.  
  
"Because they are destroying the *real* wizard world," Lucius growled, closing the subject.  
  
The rest of the dinner was almost completely passed in silence. Harry didn't dare to speak and barely listened to what the Malfoys said to each other. In the end, he returned to Draco's room with questions rushing to his head, finding their theory hard to believe and feeling very tiered.  
  
He fell asleep almost at once, unaware that Draco watched him long after he had reached the land of dreams.  
  
~What an interesting person,~ Draco thought, staring at the Griffindor with something close to liking.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry didn't sleep very well that night and woke up late, just like Draco. They prepared themselves to leave, had a small breakfast and met Draco's mother at the door at exactly quarter to ten.  
  
Outside, Harry saw that a carriage was waiting for them, a ghostly form was sitting on front ready to direct what seemed like four winged-horses into the sky.  
  
"This is in what the Beauxbatons Academy arrived at Hogwarts in," Harry stated, seeing that the carriage was very similar.  
  
Draco nodded and entered first, followed by his mother and Harry. The interior of the vehicle was very spacious. Narcissa sat beside Draco, asking him a few simple questions any mother would ask her child, but stayed quiet most of the time.  
  
Draco and Harry didn't dare to have a decent conversation in front of her, and so they both stayed relatively quiet during the whole hour of ride, only giving out sidelong smiles from time to time.  
  
The carriage seemed invisible to muggles and so they parked in the car parking lot of King's Cross.  
  
"See you at Christmas, Draco," Narcissa told her son before telling the ghostly form to go back home.  
  
Harry and Draco took two different trolleys and entered the train station. They reached platform nine and three quarters without difficulty and stopped on the other side where young wizards were boarding the Hogwarts Express.  
  
Draco smiled at him and Harry realized that it was not at all a smirk or a sneer but a real smile. Harry felt the need to speak, to know, to hear the words from his rival's mouth saying that what had happened during the summer was not 'nothing', that they could keep talking to each other and wouldn't exactly need to be rival's anymore... that they could stay friends.  
  
"Well, I guess this is-"  
  
"HARRY!" many voices yelled at the same time.  
  
The Griffindor turned around just in time to receive Hermione in his arms. Almost falling to the floor, he nearly felt a couple of his ribs crack as Molly Weasley hugged him.  
  
"We were so worried!" she said. "Three weeks without a word! Dumbledore said not to worry but it was awfully hard not to!"  
  
"Hey Harry!" Ron yelled. "Nice to see ya alive!"  
  
"Same for you," Harry simply said.  
  
"WHAT HAPPENED???" two to three other voices yelled, grabbing Harry by the arms and pulling him away from the Weasleys.  
  
Harry stared wide-eyed at Mad-Eye Moody, Remus Lupin and Tonks as they all examined him carefully. Moody's magical eye twirled in its socket furiously and Harry wouldn't have been surprised if it had fallen out. Remus looked worried and tiered and Tonks' hair almost started changing color.  
  
"Nothing, nothing at all," Harry tried to say normally.  
  
"LIAR!" they all yelled simultaneously.  
  
"Oh, give him a break," Molly said, entering the circle and pulling Harry away. "He needs to board the train."  
  
"I will be contacting you soon, Harry," Remus said before the Griffindor was pulled away by Ron and Hermione.  
  
"How are you feeling, Harry?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Not bad at all."  
  
"Come on, Ginny's saving seats for us in the train," Ron said as a whistle was heard, announcing that the last students had to beard the train.  
  
"What about my trunk and Hedwig?" Harry asked, looking around for his trolley.  
  
"The train guy took them, they're in the train with ours, come on!" Hermione said, tugging on his sleeve.  
  
But then Harry remembered Draco.  
  
"WAIT!" he yelled, looking around for his rival.  
  
He spotted him boarding another carriage not too far away. He turned in Harry's direction for a moment, an angry, sad and irritated look on his face before jumping into the compartment followed by Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
Harry shook his head somewhat sadly.  
  
~It was nothing,~ he thought. ~It's over.~  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Et voilà! They're both off to school! ^_^  
  
(*jumps up and down eagerly*) I'm so exited! How did you find Lucius' theory? Is it believable now? The slash is coming up slowly but surely... Harry and Draco were starting to get feelings for each other, but what will happen back at Hogwarts?  
  
QUICK! I need to start the next chapter! (*runs away towards her computer grinning madly, dragging Harry and Draco along with her*)  
  
Please review! I need your opinion! It's worth a pile of galleons to me ^_^ 


	9. Chapter 9

Hum... did you know that Malfoy means 'bad faith' in French? And Voldemort means 'Flight of Death'. Interesting, no?  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Summary up to date: Harry and Draco have corresponded and have become something close to friends, without really admitting it. Harry has spent the rest of the summer at Draco's house. Lucius let him come because Voldemort's new plan is to 'kill him from the inside'. Harry has learned much about the mudblood/pureblood conflict and why Voldemort is against muggle borns. Back at platform nine and three-quarters, he goes back with Ron and Hermione, having a very strong impression that his 'friendship' with Draco is over...  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 9: Troubling Questions in the Hogwarts Express  
  
Harry had been literally dragged into the train and shoved into the last compartment of their wagon. Ginny had quickly abandoned them after welcoming him and had ran off with her friends into another partition, letting them talk in peace.  
  
"So... what did you do this summer?" Hermione asked tentatively, Crookshanks purring by her side as she petted him softly.  
  
"Nothing!" Harry sighed. "Nothing at all."  
  
"Yeah right," Ron sniggered. "You can tell us. We *are* your friends, after all."  
  
"I really don't want to talk about it, Ron," Harry pleaded. "It's just... nothing."  
  
He saw Ron and Hermione look at each other for a moment, then back at him. They didn't speak for a moment, Harry being lost in thought about what Lucius had told him.  
  
~Why destroy muggle borns?~ he kept repeating to himself. ~If Voldemort killed the muggle side of him, can't other people do it?~  
  
Harry turned to Hermione and asked her the question, ignoring Pig that was zooming above his head.  
  
"What do you mean You-Know-Who killed the muggle part of him?" she immediately asked.  
  
"Never mind that," Harry muttered. "Do you know how that's possible and if other people could do it?"  
  
Hermione stayed silent for a moment, looking very concentrated.  
  
"I'm not sure, but I think killing the magic-less side of you is linked to your soul," she said tentatively. "And I think it involves Dementors. I read a lot about them when they came in our second year and I read something about a 'Kiss of Judas'. You know, Judas was one of the twelve apostle, the one that told the government that the man he would kiss was Jesus, and that's how he was arrested and sentenced to death..."  
  
"Yeah, I get it," Harry said, rolling his eyes, wanting her to get to the point.  
  
Hermione seemed shocked of his reaction but went on.  
  
"It's also known as the Kiss of Hypocrisy. The Dementor takes away only the part of your soul that is... well, muggle."  
  
"Can muggle-borns do it? Is it painful? What does it involve?" Harry went on.  
  
"First of all, Harry, getting a Dementor and telling him to suck out just one part of your soul is more than a difficulty," Hermione stated.  
  
"I can already imagine it," Ron sniggered. "Hello Mr. Dementor. Please take my soul, but give me back the magic part of it, or else no more happy- feeling meals for you and a life sentence to Azkaban. Oh, you're already a permanent resident there?"  
  
Hermione laughed but Harry didn't. He just gave Ron a disconcerting look.  
  
"You can't do it, Harry," Hermione said calmly. "Taking a part of your soul away is a thousand times worst than the Cruciatus Curse. More than half of the people don't survive the procedure, and that's if the Dementor doesn't decide to take your whole soul away. And I don't really see the point of getting separated from a part of your soul because you can't live with half a soul. You need another part to replace the one you lost."  
  
"Exactly," Harry said. "Do you know how you do it?"  
  
"Why are you asking all these questions?" Ron asked, grabbing Pig and holding him down. "No one does this, Harry. There are too much risks involved. And you need to kill someone."  
  
"Yeah," Hermione said. "You need to steal the soul of someone else and put it into you. And that still requires a Dementor. You need to give the person with the soul you want to a Dementor and tell him to transfer it into you."  
  
"And the Dementor kills the person with the soul the other wants with a kiss?"  
  
"Yep," Ron said. "But now you need to answer us. Why are you asking all of this?"  
  
"Just curious," Harry lied quickly.  
  
"No, that answer is not enough," Hermione growled.  
  
"You all know Voldemort is after muggle-borns and the Ministry," Harry sighed. "I was just thinking that... if *he* had a Kiss of Hypocrisy done on himself... maybe any other muggle-born would."  
  
"It's impossible," Ron said, shaking his head. "And after a soul- transplant, you're never the same... like a dementor sucked everyting... 'human' in you, but you're still human or something..."  
  
Harry hesitated a moment, but still went on, trying to remember everything Lucius had told him.  
  
"Hermione... can wizards do magic without wands?" he asked.  
  
"Hum... I don't know..." she said. "I head that pureblood wizards could do it with a lot of practice, but it's very, very hard."  
  
"So Ron could do it and not us?" Harry went on.  
  
"Theoretically, yes," Hermione said, frowning. "I guess there is a part of you that's muggle seeing that your mother was a muggle born. But I don't think purebloods can do a lot of things without a wand. You can maybe flick candles on, move little objects and do things like that, but-"  
  
"I saw someone make a glass explode," Harry stated.  
  
The witch in front of him looked at him wide-eyed.  
  
"Well... that must be a powerful wizard, then," she simply said. "I didn't know... things like that could happen without a wand."  
  
"And you're sure muggle-borns can't do it?"  
  
"No, they can't," she said. "Unless... unless they get the Kiss of Hypocrisy and replace their lost soul with the one of a pureblood."  
  
"Bingo!"  
  
"Bingo what?" Ron asked. "I can shut the light without my wand, big deal!"  
  
"And what if pureblood wizards started learning how to throw spells without a wand?" Harry asked.  
  
"I think you're going too far, Harry," Hermione said, chuckling. "What's got into you this summer?"  
  
"This is important!" Harry half-yelled.  
  
"Harry, calm down," Ron said seriously.  
  
"You don't understand!" Harry yelled louder. "Voldemort is going to do something terrible! Worst than what happened fifteen years ago! We need to be prepared! We need to know what's going on!"  
  
"We know, Harry," Hermione said. "There's no need to scream after us. You're the one acting strangely. Why did you all of a sudden get interested in-"  
  
But Harry didn't listen to the rest. He rose from his place, opened the door, walked into the hallway and slammed the door shut.  
  
~I never realized how aggravating they could get,~ he thought, sighing.  
  
He looked in front of him and saw that many students were cramming up the hallway.  
  
~Don't wanna go that way,~ he thought, already opening the door leading to the next wagon.  
  
This one was mostly occupied by Ravenclaws and he spotted Cho talking to her friends.  
  
~Don't want to stay here either,~ he told himself, continuing down the hallway, towards the back of the train.  
  
He passed three wagons and saw that none were at his liking. He ended up opening the door in the complete back of the train, and walking outside.  
  
The noise was terrible, a combination of train engine, screeching wheels and rushing wind. Harry immediately appreciated it.  
  
He stared at the rails passing below him for a while and finally sat down on the shaky platform, leaning against the train's façade, beside the door.  
  
He closed his eyes, shutting the world and all its problems out of his mind.  
  
He stayed there for a long time, maybe even an hour, until he could barely feel his fingers anymore, and re-entered the train. He saw that the students had finally settled down in their compartment, leaving the hallway completely empty. He passed this wagon quickly and entered the second one. It was then he remembered Draco having entered the train in this cart and considered the though of finding him and staying with him, instead of Ron and Hermione. He frowned at the thought of them.  
  
~Why do they think I'm overreacting?~ he asked himself. ~They know what Voldemort is capable of! Why don't they listen to me?~  
  
He kept on walking, deciding to go back with Ron and Hermione and not ask them anything about purebloods and muggle-borns.  
  
He was halfway through the third cart when he stopped dead in his tracks, noticing a door slightly left ajar on his left.  
  
Then, just like that, out of the blues, the same feeling that had troubled him in the fireplace came back, stroking his soul like cold satin. He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling dizzy and alert at the same time.  
  
Draco is there... Draco is there... how does he make me feel this way? ... he's simply... he's simply... humming?  
  
Harry frowned, jumping backwards as he madly shook his head to get rid of that o so pleasurably tormenting feeling.  
  
~What the HELL was that about?~ he mentally yelled at himself. ~What am I thinking?~  
  
Yes, Draco was through that door, humming some sort of tune as he wrote on a long piece of parchment, leaning near the window, his feet brought up on the bench, his shoes laying on the floor. Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be seen.  
  
Harry couldn't take it anymore. He quickly walked, almost ran away, all the way back to his cart. He opened the door, expecting to see Ron and Hermione there, but they were gone. He immediately figured they were in the prefect's cart, and it suited him just fine.  
  
He curled up on one of the seats, pulled off his glasses, threw them on the opposite bench and rubbed his face.  
  
What was going on? What was all of this about? Why had he desperately wanted to join Draco? Why was he regretting having left him on platform nine and three-quarters? He was his rival! Not his friend! He hated him!  
  
He ignored the feeling telling him all of this wasn't true as more troubling questions rushed through his head.  
  
Why am I thinking about the time you came out of the bathroom only wearing that bath towel? Why do I remember how peaceful you look when you sleep? Why did I feel special when you yelled after me because you had been worried I was going to get hurt? Why do I bless the day I received your first letter? Why do I feel this way? This is WRONG!  
  
He clasped his hands over his temples, unable to stop the thoughts from materializing in his mind.  
  
Your face, your voice... your lips, your thoughts... your eyes, your laugh... your skin, your smell... you, Draco...  
  
His face now red with anger and confusion, he slammed his fist against the wall and let out a yelp of pain.  
  
"What the FUCK is HAPPENING?" he yelled, still holding his forehead. ~Where do these thoughts come from?~  
  
It was at that precise moment that Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and other students appeared in the doorway. Hermione and Ron entered, wands out, ready for the unexpected.  
  
"NOTHING'S GOING ON!" Harry yelled.  
  
He covered his face, shutting the world out once again.  
  
~Nothing is happening, Draco is my rival, I appreciated his company over the summer but it's now over, I will keep on insulting him, I will keep on avoiding him, I will beat him at Quidditch, I will make fun of him just like he does for me, we will never be seen together anymore, I will never send him another letter, I will never mention what happened over the summer, I will never take seriously the way he makes me feel, this is not me, this is not happening, this is wrong, this is nothing, just relax, no need to take anything seriously...~  
  
The students in front of him stayed silent, unable to hear his thoughts. Finally, they all left one after the other. No one had noticed Draco behind them, watching Harry just like they did.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
*Stares at the computer screen with doubt and uncertainty. Draco shows up and pushes the 'send' button, grinning at the sight of the poor troubled writer that is now incapable of changing anything.*  
  
B.R.: WHY DID YOU DO THAT?  
  
Draco: You've been reading and rereading this chapter for more than a week. It was ready, so I just sent it.  
  
B.R.: BUT I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS RIGHT!!!  
  
*Harry shows up, a sleepy look on his face*  
  
Harry: Whaaaa?  
  
Draco: She thinks you can't start having feelings for me this quickly. But what can I say? I'm irresistible!  
  
Harry and B.R.: We know.  
  
B.R.: I don't want to rush things and I want all of this to look 'possible' so no slashy stuff yet.  
  
*Draco frowns menacingly*  
  
B.R.: But it's coming! It's coming!  
  
Harry and Draco: WORK! WRITE! WRITE LIKE YOU'VE NEVER WRITTEN BEFORE!  
  
*starts tapping madly on the keyboard*  
  
^_^  
  
Draco: Well, you could review now, just to reassure the author. You know, first slash, and all. She wants to know if she's not screwing things up.  
  
^_^ 


	10. Chapter 10

My conscience pushed me hard enough to reread every chapters sent to correct my little mistakes and give decent chapter titles. -_- I don't have any beta reader, so I had to do it.  
  
^_^ Now for my dear, very dear reviewers! ^_^  
  
CarlyHP: Thank you ^_^ I hope you like the rest... here it goes!  
  
DarkJade1: I was a little afraid when the last chapter was sent (*eyes Draco that looks away, whistling to himself*). I really didn't think it was that well. :) Thanks for telling me otherwise!  
  
Gab3: Thank you very much! I was wondering if this made a good beginning to slashy stuff... ^_^ Though it's not really starting yet! But it's coming up slowly...  
  
BillJoeBob2: You're right! Harry is sort of 3/4 pureblood. I'm guessing James was a real pureblood, and we all know Lily was not, so... yeah. I am going to talk about that soon enough ^_^ Thanks!  
  
A Happy Little Bumble-bee: Yeah, Harry was a little freaked out after his own thoughts... ;D And the slash is going up the slope from here... :p I should have never mentioned Judas (LOL)! Go look a little lower for the explanation about that...  
  
Ms Tom Riddle: Yeah! I hate when the slash is rushed and when Lucius is out of character! I know that in slash, the characters are... well, most of the time immediately made OOC (I hate thinking like that, though) and I want to avoid it. And (*cough cough*) yeah... Harry is going to sympathize and understand why Death Eaters do what they do... =D  
  
Sailor Grape: Harry didn't understand why Ron and Hermi didn't take as seriously what he was discovering. He was freaked out because he saw what happened with his wine glass at dinner with Lucius and he's imagining possibilities that could happen because of that... But Harry's not going to be mean with Ron and Hermione, don't worry =P  
  
Hermionegreen: Yeah, I didn't like slash before but I changed my mind after a while. I like it because it's a challenge to write and to look possible at the same time. It's not as easy as a boy/girl story. But don't worry, I'll keep it as clean as possible. =D  
  
^ ^: Don't worry, I promise I wont give up this story. I love writing too bloody much ^_^ Thanks!  
  
KittenBabyGirl: Thanks!  
  
Crouchinswan: LOL ^_^ I'm trying to update every week. It's my school's fault if I don't update regularly. TOO MUCH HOMEWORK! It KILLS people! ^_^  
  
Freaky_Angel: Thanks! No worries... I'll be updating...  
  
Eternal_Darkness2: No, they didn't mention anything about mudbloods and purebloods in the fifth book. I made it up ^_^ I wanted to make Voldie have a good reason for doing what he does. And I know what you mean by rushed slash. I hate it when it makes no sense. What I like about slash is that you have to explain more stuff to make it look normal. Thanks a lot! ^_^  
  
Ruriko Minamino: I know ^_^ first friendship, then love. But I'm going to add a little odium/confusion between both... And no worries about it going to fast because I'm not going to make it like that. And yep! I'm going to talk about Voldie, Lucius and 'the plan'. Lol... ;)  
  
Rain10: Its going to be a while before Harry really knows he's in love, but it's going to come... thanks for reviewing!  
  
Shimmering dragon: Thank you! (And thanks for putting me on your favorite author list!)  
  
DhRaArCrOy: haha... it took me half a second to understand your name... lol... and thank you very much! ~_^  
  
Curious Dream Weaver: Thank you! I love it when people precise what they liked! I hope you enjoy the rest! ;P  
  
Princess of Anizone, Erin: lol... the slash is coming on slowly... first they have to become friends again, though... thanks! ;)  
  
TrampyBearRox: Thank you! And the action is (unfortunately) going to be in a little while. First they're going to become friends again, and it's not going to be easy... ^_^  
  
Meggplant: thank you very much! I'm glad you haven't figured out what's going to happen... that wouldn't be fun! ^_^  
  
Thank you to all my reviewers, I love hearing your thoughts about this story and it pushes me to write faster and (hopefully) better!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
-Kiss of Hypocrisy: also known as the Kiss of Judas, this is a kiss made from a Dementor to a wizard with muggle blood precisely to get rid of the muggle part of this person's soul. But a being always needs a full soul and so the missing part needs to be replaced by another person's soul, most preferably a pureblood's, which is also taken by the Dementor and given to the first wizard. The pureblood is no longer alive, having been given a Dementor's Kiss. Wizards that use the Kiss of Hypocrisy to become purebloods rarely survive the procedure and if they miraculously do, they are marked for the rest of their damned lives. -_-  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 10: Back at School  
  
Harry didn't speak much for the rest of the trip back to Hogwarts. He simply told Ron and Hermione to leave him alone for some time and so they went back to the prefect cart. Ginny had tried talking to him but he hadn't engaged a conversation, wanting to stay alone to think.  
  
He had finally realized that his thoughts, his inexplicably intricate thoughts, were nothing more that what they were... He was getting over the anger and confusion the inexplicability of these thoughts had brought and decided that being around Drac-... no, *Malfoy*, was a bad idea.  
  
~I was getting too close to him and his *side*,~ he told himself. ~I can't tell Dumbledore that I know about muggle-borns and purebloods... I'll just have to pretend not to know for a time, until I make some sort of plan to do something... and I need to stay Malfoy's rival. What was I thinking when I went to his house for the summer? It was madness. Nothing but madness.~  
  
He ruffled his hair, pushing his glasses back up his nose and stared out his window, watching the sun set behind emerald green mountains.  
  
He tried to keep his mind from thinking about someone he currently didn't want to think of and so engaged a conversation with none other that himself.  
  
~I can't wait to be back on my Firebolt,~ he told himself. ~We'll need to find new chasers this year... who could enter? Ginny replaced me as a seeker pretty well last year... Seamus wouldn't be bad either...~  
  
The door slid open and Ron entered, followed by Hermione.  
  
"Hey Ron," Harry said casually. "Do you think Ginny would be a good chaser for Griffindor?~  
  
Ron seemed to have been caught off guard, as if he had pictured everything that was going to happen when he entered. Harry realized that he had been wanting to say something.  
  
"Well... yeah, I guess that would be great," he said uneasily, throwing a sidelong glance at Hermione. "Ehr... Harry? Listen, we've seen that something... I don't know... *changed* in you. What was that fit of yours about? We thought You-Know-Who was taking over you or something... We're your friends, Harry. Tell us what's going on... We always talked about everything."  
  
Harry smiled and closed his eyes, opening them a few seconds later.  
  
"I know you're not going to accept my answer but nothing happened this summer," he said. "I did something foolish, that's all, learned a lot of things about mudbloods and purebloods and Voldemort... and my fit was just... I'm just thinking too much."  
  
He looked up and saw Ron and Hermione looking at him with a shocked expression on both their faces.  
  
"What?" he sighed.  
  
"You... you said... mudblood," Ron said, eyeing Hermione that looked more than a little angry. Harry looked like he was about to sigh and shake the whole thing off.  
  
"Hum... sorry," Harry mumbled. "Don't take it as an offence, Hermi. I didn't mean anything."  
  
Hermione still didn't look happy.  
  
"You're so different," she spat. "Harry, just tell us what happened and we might understand why you're like this. We're your friends. We only want to help you but we can't if you don't tell us anything."  
  
"Why I'm like this?" Harry repeated, feeling that a very strong headache was on its way. "I can't believe you're asking me this, Hermione. Out of all people, you were the last one I expected to ask me that. You saw EVERYTHING that happened last year... you... you..."  
  
"It's okay," Hermione said uneasily. "Just tell us what happened."  
  
"NO!" Harry yelled, suddenly suspicious. "Why do you want to know that much?"  
  
"Harry, we're not the only ones that were worried," Ron said. "We're curious because Aurors and even Dumbledore couldn't find you. They were all worried sick. We were afraid, Harry. Afraid! Dumbledore, the only wizard -except you- able to go against Voldemort couldn't find you. Do you know what that meant? You were obviously in a place protected by very powerful magic. It's okay with me if you don't want to tell us, but I just need to hear from your own mouth that you're... well, okay."  
  
The concerned look on Ron's face made Harry want to hug him.  
  
"I'm fine, Ron," he said, smiling sincerely. "And thanks."  
  
Ron looked content but not Hermione. Harry knew she evidently wanted to know more, but didn't dare push it any further.  
  
~~~  
  
They arrived at Hogsmeade Station an hour later. Harry quickly changed in his school robes and walked out of the train with Ron and Hermione.  
  
The platform was dark and crowded with students all trying to make their way in the right direction. Smiling regretfully, Ron and Hermione, the two *prefects* of the trio, left to help out lost first year students.  
  
"Sorry Harry," Hermione said. "We'll see you at dinner, all right?"  
  
"Sure," Harry said, smiling. "See ya."  
  
"Oh no," Ron mumbled. "Here comes Malfoy."  
  
Harry forced himself to frown and turned around, watching the blond Slytherin walking through a crowd of fifth year Ravenclaws, framed by his two loyal bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
"Malfoy!" Hermione yelled, an angry look plastered on her face.  
  
"What, mudblood?" he spat, staring at her menacingly.  
  
"You weren't at the prefect reunion on the train!" she said, fists on her hips.  
  
"So what?" he said, annoyed. "I had better things to do than listen to you lecture us about catching rule breakers when you and your two cronies are the ones who do half of the things you say are against."  
  
Hermione preferred not replying, knowing that there was a piece of truth in what he had just said.  
  
"Direct the first year students to the boats on the lakeshore, where Madam Hooch will be waiting," she said coldly. "You'll have to see with someone else what to do afterwards."  
  
She turned around and walked away, Ron grinning like an idiot as he followed her. Draco turned to Harry, an inexplicable look on his face, giving out neither friendliness nor hostility. Harry felt strangely calm and serene as the blond boy watched him. He stared back for a while, but Draco walked away after a few moments, yelling 'first years follow me or you'll regret it' with two to three other prefects from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff that opted for a calmer approach.  
  
Harry sighed, shoved his hands in his pockets and made his way through the crowd.  
  
"Harry! Harry!" he heard a familiar voice yelling.  
  
He turned around and saw Neville running his way.  
  
"Hi!" his round-faced friend said. "... You okay?"  
  
"Yep," Harry simply said, knowing he had seen his little breakdown on the train. "How are you doing?"  
  
"Not bad, not bad at all in fact," he said, smiling as they walked towards one end of the station. "I did all my potion homework without blowing anything up. You should have seen the look on my grandmother's face! She was so happy!"  
  
"With who did you stay on the train?" Harry asked.  
  
"Dean and Seamus and then Ginny and Luna joined us," he said. "We were talking about the Quidditch team and you know what? I'm thinking of trying it out!"  
  
Harry would have laughed if he hadn't thought it would make Neville angry.  
  
"As chaser?" he asked, unable to sound unamused by the whole conversation.  
  
"I... I was actually considering Beater," he said, cheeks reddening.  
  
"Well I'll see you at the tryouts then," Harry said, trying not to picture Neville receiving a bludger in the face.  
  
"Yeah!" he said happily.  
  
Harry arrived at the end of the platform where Filch was standing, lantern in hand and miss Norris at his feet. In front of him could be seen an agglomeration of sixth year students of all houses.  
  
"FOLLOW ME!" Filch bellowed, turning around and walking off the platform.  
  
Doing like everyone else, Harry did as asked and followed the caretaker off the platform. Filch stopped in the middle of bushy green vegetation about thirty to forty meters away from the station and lift his lantern. The ground began to growl and shake as a passageway was revealed. Harry rolled his eyes as girls screamed as a large piece of ground rose, revealing a set of stone stairs.  
  
"Down we go," Harry heard Filch mutter as he went down the stairs.  
  
Harry followed him first, only half listening to what Neville was talking about. He said a few words to Seamus and Dean, and eventually to other Griffindors he recognized, but besides that, he stayed quiet.  
  
The passageway was long, cold and narrow. It opened in a hallway of the school and they soon all reached the Great Hall in which the fourth and fifth year students had already settled down.  
  
He immediately spotted Cho, talking with her friends at the Ravenclaw table. She didn't look up when he entered, but he hadn't expected her to, either. He knew it was officially over between them.  
  
He quickly sat down at the Griffindor table next to Ginny and waited. About ten minutes later, all the students had settled down, talking noisily with their friends.  
  
~Where are they?~ Harry thought, seeing that Ron and Hermione weren't back yet.  
  
He noticed Draco enter but looked away as he sat down between his fellow Slytherins. The first years arrived soon enough, leaded by professor McGonagall. The Sorting Hat sang his song and the new students were eventually each sorted in their respectful houses.  
  
Harry didn't even listen to Dumbledore's speech, staring at his plate. He tried to deny it, but he was still thinking of what he had felt in the train, unable to find a logical explanation. His thoughts always seemed to return to Draco.  
  
~He must be angry with me,~ he thought. ~Just leaving like that... we were sort of friends, I guess.~  
  
Ron and Hermione's arrival interrupted his thinking as the table was covered by platters of food. His friends sat down but he rose.  
  
"Sorry, I'm just not hungry," he said. "I'll just go to bed now."  
  
"Wouldn't it be better to go see madam Pomfrey?" Ron suggested.  
  
"Nah, I'm not feeling sick at all," Harry said. "I just want to sleep."  
  
"The password is 'sneakoscope'!" Hermione whispered.  
  
"Thanks," Harry whispered back, walking away quickly.  
  
He passed the door and sighed in relief. He was about to start walking towards the Griffindor tower when he heard a familiar voice behind him.  
  
"Mister Potter," professor McGonagall said, marching towards him. "Passed a nice summer?"  
  
"It was fine," Harry simply said, hoping she wasn't about to ask more about it.  
  
"We tried sending you this, but it never reached you, I'm afraid," she went on.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. What would they have wanted to send him? A note telling him that he was not allowed to go at the Malfoy residence? That he had to go to Ron's house? Or stay at Privet Drive?"  
  
"Your O.W.L.s results," professor McGonagall said, smiling as she handed him a letter.  
  
Harry sighed in relief and almost laughed.  
  
"Oh, thank you," he muttered, taking the letter.  
  
His Head of House turned around and walked back inside the Great Hall.  
  
~Maybe I'm not that over-protected after all,~ he thought.  
  
~~~  
  
Back at Malfoy Manor, Lucius Malfoy was in his office, having an important talk with his master. Voldemort was sitting in the same armchair, wearing jet black robes and staring at his interlocutor.  
  
"He's not talking to your son anymore," Voldemort hissed, his fingers tapping on his chair's armrest as he watched his most faithful Death Eater. "I can feel it."  
  
Lucius frowned, staring at his marble desk while rubbing his temple, trying to find an idea.  
  
"What if I told Draco to get close to him?" he suggested, unable to look into his mater's eyes, these two pools of burgundy that kept on staring at him.  
  
"No," the Dark Lord said. "Your son must not know about this... yet."  
  
"Why not?" Lucius asked tentatively.  
  
"Because I've noticed that he is starting to craft the most wonderful trap for me, unconsciously made to capture young Harry on his own," Voldemort said, smiling slyly. "This trap is friendship."  
  
Lucius made a muffled sound.?  
  
"My son is starting to be friends with... with... *him*?" he exclaimed.  
  
"As crazy as it sounds, yes," the Dark Lord said. "Both do not want to admit it, but they are building something that others will see as friendship."  
  
"This is impossible!" the Death Eater objected.  
  
"I am curious," Voldemort went on, ignoring his comment. "I do not clearly understand what is going on between them... this could be interesting."  
  
"How could they be what you say they are when they have stopped talking to each other?" Lucius went on.  
  
"They're maybe a little shy," Voldemort mocked. "Nothing that time can't dilute."  
  
"So what do we do?"  
  
"We wait," Voldemort said. "We wait and see."  
  
There was an awkward silence in which all could be heard was the sound the fire was making behind the Death Eater. Voldemort was staring out into the unknown, a wicked smile plastered on his face.  
  
~~~  
  
Sitting cross-legged on his bed, Harry was rereading the letters Draco had sent him. He still had the wizard corresponding set Draco had given him but didn't dare to use it. Why would he want to talk to Draco now that he was back at Hogwarts with his friends?  
  
He shook his head and hid the letters in one of his books, which he shoved at the bottom of his trunk before sitting back onto his bed after having changed into his pajamas and dived under his covers. The headache he had forecasted in the train had finally arrived and had hit him like a bludger in the face. So many questions were passing through his mind, but he pushed them all away.  
  
He was going to deal with them piece by piece, starting tomorrow. He mentally planed what he wanted to do: find out more about the Kiss of Hypocrisy at the library, discover more differences between purebloods and muggle-borns, talk with what was left of the Quidditch team to see what was going to happen next, rethink about everything he had learned at Draco's house, take notice of the changes that had occurred with the Order of the Phoenix, try to avoid Dumbledore at all cost, try to avoid Draco at all cost...  
  
He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling his scar tickling in a kind of enjoyable way. His sixth year at Hogwarts was starting tomorrow.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
-_- Nothing much in this chapter, I know... I had invented a Sorting Hat song but I took it off at the last moment.  
  
Hum... I'm going to start posting 'Dear Rival' in French. ^_^ I've been waiting to do it for a long time but the book only came out in French last week. (*Poor French speaking people. They had to wait all this time...*)  
  
Draco's POV in the next chapter!  
  
Please review! Each one is taken into account! I love hearing about you and your thoughts! 


	11. Chapter 11

So, I would like to wish you a delayed Merry Christmas and an untimely Happy New Year! ^_^ I've reposted the chapters of this story and made a few adjustments here and there, mostly in Harry and Draco's conversation in chapter 4. I just need to take a second look at chapters 9 and 10.  
  
I also wanted to say that in further chapters, quotes that do not belong to me will be used. These quotes will come from famous love letters that were sent between people like Napoleon and Josephine, George Sand and her lovers, famous writers and actresses... I will show some in advance at the end of chapters from time to time... just for fun... ^_^  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
hermionegreen: I would have never thought calling that chapter exceptional! Thanks! But Voldemort isn't quite sure of what's going on between Harry and Draco. He doesn't understand very well... ^_^  
  
Necro: Thank you! And if you liked how Harry was feeling with his emotions and stuff, I'm sure you will like the end of this chapter. I'm glad you like it!  
  
NayNymic: I know, but Harry doesn't see it as being mean to Draco. He thinks Draco thinks their friendship is over, that's why. But don't worry about the ending, it will be great ^_^  
  
Ruriko Minamino: This chapter is not at all dull (it is the exact word) compared to chapter 10 (which was, when I think about it, really like the continuation of chap.9.) I will rewrite chapter 10, though. I know the description was not at all well done. Thank you very much, your reviews are always greatly appreciated!  
  
Craw/Brad: Thank you! And I try to keep it updated, I really do... ;P  
  
Vic0usRebL: Don't worry, Harry is definitely not going to be all goody goody and he will go relatively bad. It's always more fun that way ;D  
  
Sailor Grape: lol... Voldemort is not quite sure about what's going on with Harry and Draco but he is evidently going to exploit their friendship... mweheheh... And Harry is going to stay friends with Ron and Hermione but they will have a euh, how can I put this... slight disagreement at one point. Thanks for your review ^_^  
  
Ms Tom Riddle: Please tell me if you know good Tom/Harry stories, eh? Those stories kick ass! And I hope you post in your soon! I can't wait!  
  
Luna_Kat04: Don't worry, the story is not called 'Dear Rival' for nothing! Their correspondence will restart at some point... ^_^ They will secretly be friends in a while... before becoming lovers... (*daydreams*)  
  
Jay: Why, thank you very much! The slash is going to take a few more chapters, though. Draco is just going to realize some of his feelings in this chapter... though it will come!  
  
Shimmering dragon: They will be together, that's a promise! And now it's Draco's turn to have mixed feelings... thanks for your review!  
  
Headphone therapy: (love your pen name, by the way!) And I hate, no... I loathe a 'feminine' Draco! It just doesn't work! And very muscular doesn't work either! I understand perfectly! And thanks!  
  
Michelle: I hope I will notice the spelling errors and fix them... thanks!  
  
Meggplant: That would be cool! Yes! Draco and Harry will be pranksters! Not full time like the twins, but that would be very interesting... thanks for the idea! And Harry is not really moving away from Ron and Hermione but they will have a very big disagreement, though... thanks!  
  
Curious Dream Weaver: They will talk... through letters (then orally, face to face, of course)! Thank you! I love your reviews and I hope you enjoy the rest!  
  
Lady of the mists: That could be an excellent possibility! I would have never thought of that! Thanks!  
  
Solaris Isa: Thanks! And Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! :D  
  
A Happy Little Bumble-bee: And now Draco will find out how he feels and he and Harry must love each other... THEN Hermione and Ron find out. You're a huge step ahead, you! ;P Thanks!  
  
Océ: Merci beaucoup pour la review! J'ai été surprise de voir une review en français ^_^ Et j'espère que tu aimeras la suite!  
  
DarkJade1 : No problem! Thanks!  
  
Relle: Thank you, here is the rest and I hope you like it!  
  
Tobby: Merci beaucoup pour ta review! J'espère que la suite te plairas! Joyeux Noël et Bonne Année!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 11:  
  
Draco growled menacingly as he marched down one of the hallways of the sixth floor after dinner, his hands playing with his wand behind his back as he thought of Harry and his sudden departure at platform nine and three- quarters.  
  
~How can he even consider just LEAVING like that?~ he thought, unbelievably angry.  
  
He arrived at an intersection of corridors and spotted two fifth year Ravenclaws kissing noisily near the wall, not too far away in front of him. The two lovebirds did not hear him come.  
  
"Ten points from Ravenclaw!" he snapped, "For not retiring to your common room as you were told to!"  
  
"But-" started the boy, ready to argue.  
  
"Yes, that's exactly what you are, now just get lost!" Draco cut off, walking away.  
  
~Ah, the goodness of being a sixth year Prefect,~ Draco sighed.  
  
The previous year, prefects needed to consult each other to take off house points, but in sixth year, the school board thought that they were fair enough to take off points themselves.  
  
Draco reached a window and leaned on its ledge, looking at the lake shimmering in the moonlight. He frowned deeply, his thoughts returning to his previous problem.  
  
~What was the stupid git thinking?~ he thought. ~Just walking away like that... WAIT! Why do I even care? He left, I should be rejoicing! Yeah... then why am I not pleased?~  
  
Draco shook his head. There was no need for him to have this conversation with himself! Harry was gone, that was all. It was not like he could not live without him, no?  
  
He was about to go back into his silent contemplation of the lake, when two people at the end of the hallway arrived, instantaneously disturbing him. He turned around and rolled his eyes seeing two bodies entwined together behind the statue of an imposing witch.  
  
"Didn't I tell you two to get a room?" he barked savagely, walking towards them. "Ten more points fro-"  
  
He never had the time to finish his phrase as his jaw dropped; he stared dumbfounded at the shocked and disheveled weasel and mudblood girl. Draco's look of surprise was replaced by a very wide harmful smirk.  
  
"Well, well, well," he said. "What have we got here?"  
  
"Malfoy..." started Ron, brushing his robes and trying to regain composure.  
  
~I can't wait to tell Harry about thi- wait!~ Draco thought. ~Its not like I'm going to tell *him* anything!~  
  
"Oh, no need to explain, weasel-boy," Draco said, still smiling nastily. "I comprehend-"  
  
"Mr. Malfoy?" an additional voice asked.  
  
The trio turned around to see professor Dumbledore standing not too far away, dressed in velvety dark green robes with gold trimmings. He lowered his head, looking at Draco and the two Griffindors above his half-moon spectacles, a little smile forming on his lips.  
  
"Yes?" Draco asked, slightly annoyed.  
  
"Would you mind accompanying me to my office?" the headmaster asked. "I have something rather important to discuss with you."  
  
Draco eyed the two Griffindors one last time before walking towards the elderly wizard, following him down the passage.  
  
A moment of uneasy silence fell between Ron and Hermione.  
  
"So... what were you saying?" Hermione finally asked, smiling.  
  
Ron returned her smile and leaned down to kiss her again.  
  
~~~  
  
Draco didn't say a word as he followed Dumbledore through Hogwarts. They went up and down so many staircases that Draco wasn't very sure on which floor they were on when they reached the imposing statue of a gargoyle. He was rather surprised when the headmaster used 'Fizzing Whizzbee' as password, making the statue jump sideways, but followed him without a word up the stairs, until they both reached a gleaming oak door on which was a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin.  
  
Dumbledore pushed it open and marched in, his back to Draco, and so did not see the Slytherin frown deeply seeing his Head of House and his transfiguration teacher sitting in the back of the room. They both nodded politely but did not address him orally.  
  
"Please take a seat," the Headmaster said, he himself sitting down behind his desk. "Crumpets?" he asked, a silver platter appearing in midair.  
  
"No thank you, the feast was just fine," Draco snapped in aggravation. "What did you want to talk about?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled, though Draco thought there was a lack of feeling in his gesture.  
  
"How was your summer, Draco?" he asked, eyeing the two other people in the room.  
  
"Very good," Draco simply said, the moment of surprise now passed, an evil smile spreading on his lips.  
  
"I heard you had... nice company," Dumbledore continued.  
  
Draco almost laughed, an amused expression discernible on his features as he leaned back comfortably in his chair.  
  
"I bet you were worried sick for him," he said, deciding to forget he was talking to his Headmaster.  
  
"We all were," Minerva McGonagall said irately. "And you must have found it pleasant to push him into believing that it was safe for him to spend time with you!"  
  
The Head of Griffindor House was now literally fuming.  
  
"And how could he have decided to just disappear with you?" she asked herself. "What was that reckless child thinking?"  
  
For a reason or for another, Draco was personally hurt by her comments and didn't quite understand why.  
  
"Professor," he said, "I personally think you all have no clue of Harry's feelings and the actual position he was holding this summer. And you, Headmaster! You let him go back to the Dursleys while you knew perfectly well that they all hated the idea and that it was just like sending Harr-, I mean Potter in exile. You didn't help him, you didn't talk to him and so we ended up corresponding. All of this was actually your fault."  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, sending him back to the Dursleys was to give him a break off the Wizarding world and to keep him safe," Dumbledore said slowly. "Mr. Potter had been going through a lot of pressure at the end of the year and I thought it best for him to stay away from all of that. We did not talk about what we were doing because we were simply too busy to do so, and the Weasleys were in no position to receive him because of certain... hum, arrangements that had been taken."  
  
"Well exactly, you were ignoring him!" Draco stated. "And you can't give a wizard a break by keeping him away from the Wizarding world, it doesn't work that way."  
  
"And since when do you care about Harry Potter?" his transfiguration teacher asked, crossing her arms in front of her.  
  
Draco flushed.  
  
~I don't care about him!~ he felt like yelling.  
  
"I am not concerned about him, professor, I am concerned about myself because you've all been hassling me because of what I did this summer. And why are you asking me this anyways? Just go ask him!"  
  
"I personally wanted to discuss this matter with you, Draco, because it comes with a warning," Dumbledore said very slowly. "Because I think you are conscious that it is in your greatest advantage that Mr. Potter was not harmed during his stay with you."  
  
Draco was close to being incapable of conserving his calm.  
  
"And again, you are blaming me when you are the one that made the mistake," he growled. "Yes, what would have happened if Harry Potter was accidentally killed while he stayed over at my house? YOU would have been blamed, professor. The Ministry would have blamed you for not having taken care of him, for not having kept an eye on him. It would have been your fault not mine. Who could hold responsible the son of a Death Eater that is obviously against your ways of thinking when, I am sorry to say, Harry Potter was the one who asked me to come and get him?"  
  
There was a moment of awkward silence in the room.  
  
"Yes, I guess that was our mistake, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, smiling. "We all thought Harry was smart enough to make his decisions by himself. But we learn from our mistakes."  
  
"Of course we do," Draco spat, rolling his eyes, unable to contain his anger anymore.  
  
"But why would you write to Potter?" professor McGonagall asked. "You hate each other!"  
  
"It was not about hate, for God's Sake!" Draco sighed. "We were simply bored! We were simply amusing ourselves by exchanging meaningless letters for a while!"  
  
"And your father just agreed to have Harry over at your house so that you could be entertained?" McGonagall continued. "I'm sorry but it does not stick together. Out of all people... Harry Potter!"  
  
"You are simply forcing yourself to pay no attention to my answers," Draco said, rising from his seat. "I do not see where this conversation is going so I should just leave. My answers never seem to satisfy you, you just come up with more."  
  
Draco pushed his chair, briefly saluted the headmaster and made his way to the door.  
  
"Good night, Mr. Malfoy, but I hope you know what you are doing," the Headmaster said sadly. "I just hope you know what you are doing."  
  
"And I say the same to you," Draco said before closing the door.  
  
Minerva sighed and eyes Severus Snape that had not said a word since his favorite pupil had entered the room.  
  
"Well that went well," she commented. "We didn't even ask him half of the questions that were on our minds."  
  
"Yes, and he did seem a little... agitated, I might say," the Headmaster muttered.  
  
"I don't understand how Harry could have been so... irresponsible!"  
  
"He just came to trust mister Malfoy," Dumbledore said, the faintest of smiles on his lips.  
  
"Well then he is starting to trust the wrong people," Minerva said nervously. "This is not good."  
  
"I know. We will just have to keep a watchful eye on him. On them both."  
  
In his corner, Severus frowned.  
  
~~~  
  
He didn't worry about what McGonagall had said, he, Draco Malfoy, did not *care* about Harry Potter.  
  
"How could she have even considered that idea?" he grumbled as he walked back to his common room. "It's unthinkable. Me, care about *him*. No. Impossible."  
  
Draco shook his head but his frown did not disappear.  
  
~I just need a bath and a good night's sleep,~ he thought, reaching the pan of wall through which the Slytherin common room could be found.  
  
"Quick-Quotes Quill," he muttered under his breath, as the stone door concealed in the wall opened to let him pass.  
  
He entered and quickly made his way to the staircase on the other side of the room without making eye contact with anyone because he wanted to avoid talking to anyone.  
  
The staircase turned on itself many times as he climbed upwards. He was at least at the ground's level when he reached a black door. A silver plate on which was engraved the name and status 'Draco Malfoy: Prefect' adorned it. Slytherin Prefects were allowed to have their own rooms. He pushed the door and sighed with satisfaction.  
  
The ceiling was extremely high in this room. The windows, small and discrete, were placed as high as possible in order to only let light pass through, so the view outside could not be seen from where Draco was standing. The walls were of rock, a fireplace above which was a dexterously carved mantelpiece on which his schoolbooks were lined up was placed on the opposite wall and two armchairs and sofas were placed near it. A table was placed between them all and there was a staircase to his right, leading to a mezzanine where could be found his trunk and a wooden four-poster bed with dark blue hangings.  
  
It did seem a lot compared to how Prefects in the other houses were treated, but Slytherins had a touch for greatness.  
  
Draco sighed contentedly and mounted the stairs up to the mezzanine three by three. He pulled off his robes and grabbed emerald-green silk pajamas. Instead of slipping them on, he walked back downstairs and stood in front of a large painting of Sonja Slytherin, the very pretty daughter of the founder of his house.  
  
"Hello Draco," she purred, looking at him from head to toes, lingering on his chest for a moment. "Been working out, haven't you, hottie."  
  
"Hi Sonja," he said quickly. "May I?"  
  
"Only because it's you, sweetheart," she mocked, her picture moving sideways to reveal a passageway leading to a prefect bathroom.  
  
~Who had the brilliant idea to put the horniest painting around in my room?~ he thought as he got rid of his clothes, throwing them in a corner rapidly before getting into the pool of warm water covered with red and blue foam and bubble bath. His feet scarcely touching the bottom, he dove underneath to come out a few meters away, his hair sleeked back because of the water. He swam to the opposite side of the pool and leaned on its side.  
  
He smiled evilly as he thought about the weasel and mudblood kissing in the hallway but frowned when he thought of the Headmaster and their little talk.  
  
"Who the hell does he think he is?" he growled. "And Harry just leaving like that... he can rot in hell, that little idiot."  
  
~I mean, we got along relatively well,~ he thought. ~And he, unlike everyone else, seemed to listen to me. Ah, the stupid PRICK. He was angry after them and goes back to his Griffindor friends like if nothing happened. He's so stupid, he isn't worth my time.~  
  
*Then why do you keep thinking of him?* An interior voice asked.  
  
~I DON'T think of him,~ Draco stubbornly said, whipping the bubble bath.  
  
*Of course you don't.* he mentally argued.  
  
~Shut up, Draco Malfoy,~ he lightheartedly thought, deciding to focus on taking his bath as he dived underneath the red and blue surface again, reappearing in the center of the pool.  
  
~But it is to say, he is incredibly hot.~  
  
Draco's mind went blank for a second as he considered what he had just said. His eyes widened.  
  
"WHAT?" he yelled, coughing as water entered his mouth. ~What the hell am I thinking?~  
  
He was so adorable in a bathrobe in the middle of the hallway, why do you even take the time to think of anything else? And when he was laying in the grass on your first 'responsive' day together? What about when you held him in the fireplace? You can't deny it Draco Malfoy, you did more that appreciate it! The exasperating way he ruffled his scruffy hair, the way he smiled for nothing, you love thinking about it, don't you?  
  
Draco shook his head. What was going on? Where were these thoughts coming from?  
  
His eyes, his smile... his voice, his laugh... his lips, his face... his skin, his smell... his hands, his hair... his soul, his mind... Harry...  
  
Draco swam to the side of the pool and climbed out, reaching for a towel. As he rubbed himself dry, he couldn't help but realize the incredible truth in his wicked thoughts.  
  
"This cannot... I... him... us..." he muttered incoherently, slipping into his cold nightclothes.  
  
He climbed out of the portrait hole and up the stairs to he mezzanine, ignoring the comment Sonja had thrown at him. Getting under the cover, he couldn't stop his thoughts from coming back.  
  
Needless to say, he did not sleep that night.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
My eyes have expressed it,  
  
My tongue has pronounced it,  
  
My quill has declared it,  
  
For you my heart capsizes,  
  
My mind raves,  
  
And my hand writes.  
  
-George Farquhar (English author) to Ann Oldfield (actress) towards 1700. His love was never shared.  
  
(I LOVE this quote. It will most probably become the summary of many chapters to come ^_^ I'm so exited!) Please review and leave me your impression! ^_^ 


	12. Chapter 12

Well, its January and so I'm in the middle of my exams =_= Give me a week to send in chapter 13 (which is almost completely done, by the way ^_^). Wish me luck for the exams! Especially maths (*shrugs*)!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Relle: Wait till chapter 13... they'll be 'friends' again and then something is going to happen and make them spend some time together... and then they'll become lovers. It will come quicker than you imagine! Thanks! ^_^  
  
Shimmering dragon: thank you! The quote comes from a book I found in my room. It's completely about famous love letters, so I was completely hyper when I found it, of course ;P And Draco will use the quote in one of his letters... I can't wait...  
  
Get lucky: _ you are so nice! Thank you! And Draco's room *will* come in handy... :D  
  
Curious Dream Weaver: The teachers do not know they are friends and soon-to- be lovers. They are afraid that Harry might get killed because of what Draco is leading him into... but they will maybe understand later... thanks! ^_^  
  
Ruriko Minamino: Thank you for that advice! I will try to put Draco and Harry's POVs in all the chapters... It's just that I have a little bit of a problem with putting both their POVs, but I will try to solve it... and until now, I can't seem to be able to do anything interesting with that damn chapter 10, but it will come, I guess...  
  
Hermionegreen: Snape didn't want to say anything because he didn't understand how Draco and Harry had ended up spending the summer together, but he wasn't really agreeing with the Headmaster either... though, that will most probably be discussed later on... thanks!  
  
Stampdelover: Thank you! And Harry will turn... 'half' dark... it's hard to explain, but you will see later on...  
  
SadieBabie: Wow, thank you very much! That was a strong compliment there... thank you... and here is the rest! ^_^  
  
FerretMalfoy: Thank you! And you are right, because anyways, there will not be really action between the boys for a little while... I like when it goes slow...  
  
Sailor Grape: Thank you, I'm glad you like it and I hope you'll like the rest! And now that they both are in that denial/belief stage, they don't know what to do about it because they both want to be with each other but at the same time, they don't...  
  
Silvia_Silver: Thank you for reviewing! I loved the way you told me what you liked because that's the type of stuff I need to know! I'm glad Lucius' hypothesis makes sense... I always liked the Death Eaters and I wanted to put an understandable theory for what they did... Thank you very much! ^_^  
  
Sylvia Sylverton: Draco's going to use the quote in one of his letters to Harry 3 What I find sad is that the writer's (of the quote) love was not shared... well, thank you! ;D  
  
Iluvrent291: The real slash stuff will come up after (at least) chapter 15, unfortunately. They're still in the denial/belief stage, but will 're- become' "dear rivals" in the next chapter... thanks you for reviewing!  
  
Ironic-humour: Ah! Eh bien mon père est un français (de France!) pur-laine et ma mère est Autrichienne, et comme ici à Montréal c'est vraiment bilingue, je peux parler les deux langues. C'est un peu plus Anglais avec ma mère et Français avec mon père! ^_^ Thank you very much and I hope you'll enjoy the rest!  
  
RedHot721: ...Thank you! ^_^  
  
Beta 4 hire: thank you! And Lucius won't do anything for now because he doesn't know what's happening!  
  
Océ: lol... C'est drôle recevoir des reviews en français pour un fic en anglais mais ça na me dérange vraiment pas du tout!!! Mais bon, j'arrive vraiment mal à mettre le point de vue de Harry et Drago dans le même chapitre... c'Est bizarre mais je vais essayer de mettre les deux ensemble... (lol. Littérallement) et Bonne Année!  
  
Jay: Thank you very much! And I do try to update as regularly as possible... but now with the exams... -_-  
  
DarkJade1: I love it when people understand how the characters feel! Thank you!  
  
Tobby: Thanks! I didn't want to made Snape say anything because he still doesn't understand how Draco could have invited Harry... he's... mystified. Yeah. ^_^ Thank you very much!  
  
Craw/Brad: Thank you!!! ^_^ I'm really happy you like it and I hope you'll enjoy the rest!  
  
Mrs Tom Riddle: Hello again! ^_^ (My turn to suggest a Tom story now!) Try 'Le Souhait' by Sophie Black. It was written in French first and only two chapters are up in English until now but the story is really great. It was the first Tom/Harry story I read (in French, but still)... thanks!  
  
A Happy Little Bumble-bee: Thank you! That is so nice! And don't worry, they'll stop ignoring each other by the next chapter... but still a couple of chapters before the slash... ^_^  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 12: Dumbledore's measures  
  
Harry helped himself with some bacon over breakfast the next morning, listening to Dean and Seamus who were both describing with extreme precision how they had spent their summer vacations.  
  
"Then we drove along the Irish coast for the whole morning because my mother wanted to spot a Leprechaun, but she didn't want to listen to me and believe that they stayed in woodlands and stuff, so we obviously didn't see any..." Seamus said eloquently.  
  
"...My parents didn't want to go on a real vacation because they were afraid about You-Know-Who coming back and all," Dean continued, "so I went at alone at my grandma's place in Sweden. Even though she's a muggle like my parents, she agreed to make me visit the Swedish Short-Snout dragon reserve. It was really incredible; I got to see one up close! I even bought a scale for three galleons."  
  
Harry smiled and started eating, not being very talkative because he was still rather tiered. He hadn't had much sleep because of troubling dreams concerning a certain Slytherin whose company he was starting to miss. Ron was seated to his left side, Hermione was on his right and, strangely enough, both looked even more diluted than he.  
  
"Couldn't sleep or what?" Harry asked.  
  
"Hum... we needed to make a few rounds after dinner to make sure new students weren't lost," Hermione muttered inattentively.  
  
"Hey, Fred and George's shop opened last week," Ron said. "Mom was furious when they sent her the invitation to the opening ceremony but she was really pleased when she saw how well the store was working. You should have been there, Harry. They have absolutely everything! They gave me free samples and promised me a life supply of tricks, so we can test them out on Malfoy, eh? Time we gave him a lesson."  
  
Harry stopped himself from objecting just in time as professor McGonagall arrived behind them, handing them their timetables of the year. Hermione grabbed hers excitedly, thanking their Head of House.  
  
"Hey... this isn't right..." Harry muttered, looking down at his sheet of paper.  
  
The timetable on his page was in fact completely empty, just like Ron and Hermione's. The squares in front of the days of the week were blank and the titles of his usual lessons were written at the bottom of the page in a large rectangle.  
  
"Herm', what's this all about?" he asked.  
  
"You didn't pay attention to what Dumbledore said before the feast, now did you?" she chuckled. "We're in our sixth year, if you hadn't noticed. You choose which classes you want to take."  
  
"You must be kidding!" Harry said joyfully, pulling out a quill from his pocket. "No more divination! No more potions! No more-"  
  
"Harry, you're supposed to choose which classes you want to take according to what you want to become in the future, remember? If you want to become an Auror, you will need to take potions."  
  
"No..." Harry muttered sadly. "Damn. For one second, I thought I'd be rid of Snape."  
  
"You really are completely lethargic," Ron grumbled lowly. "You were told you needed to continue Potions *last year*! You just can't forget things like that!"  
  
"I'm just not very... attentive," Harry said quickly. "I just have a lot of things on my mind right now, just never mind about that. But what do you want to become, Herm'? Ron?"  
  
"I guess I'll try out for Auror, too," Ron said tentatively, looking around him suspiciously before going on. "I am, anyhow, joining the Order of the Phoenix."  
  
"Yeah, me too," Hermione said, smiling. "But I'm not sure about being an Auror. I was actually considering... no, never mind."  
  
"Come on!" Ron said joyfully as he tried impaling as much pieces of sausages as he could onto his fork.  
  
"Nah, I'm not telling you yet," Hermione said slyly. "But you two better start making your schedule. We have a free period to make it after breakfast, but we have the morning off too. What do you say about going to the library?"  
  
Harry didn't answer as he noticed Draco, followed by a herd of Slytherins, entering the Great Hall with an ill-tempered look on his face. He crossed Harry's gaze and the expression on his features was replaced by austere confusion. Without breaking eye contact with the Griffindor, Draco nervously muttered something to Crabbe and Goyle who both jumped to his sides, walking towards their table. Reddening, Harry looked away from the Slytherin and looked down at his plate, playing with the leftovers of his pancakes.  
  
On his side, Draco sighed and shook his head before sitting down at his place. They had no idea that at that moment, they were thinking the exact same thing. ~I wonder what he would say if he knew how I thought about him...~ The only difference between their thoughts was that Harry pushed himself to add that they were only thoughts and nothing more, before reddening even more.  
  
"Look, there goes Malfoy," Ron spat, completely disgusted. "Come on, let's go."  
  
Hermione rose form her seat, picking up her schoolbag and schedule, following Ron towards the door, motioning Harry to do the same. Sighing, Harry grabbed his quill and empty timetable before following his friends just as someone started calling his name.  
  
He turned around and saw Ginny running in his direction.  
  
"Hi, Harry," she said. "You know about the Quidditch team?"  
  
"No, what is it?" Harry asked quickly, keeping an eye on Ron and Hermione that were already disappearing at the entrance doors.  
  
"Well, Angelina sent me an owl because she wanted to know what was going to happen with the team," she said. "Because the problem is... there is no team! No beaters, no chasers, just you as seeker and Ron as Keeper. And to add even more bad news, Malfoy is going to be captain of the Slytherin team."  
  
"Really?" Harry exclaimed. "Then why did he look bad-tempered before? That news should have thrilled him."  
  
Ginny eyed him strangely.  
  
"Whatever Harry," she said, raising her shoulders. "But when Malfoy looks grumpy, it's always better for us, anyways. So... about the team?"  
  
"I'll think of something," Harry said quickly, moving away, red in the face. "We'll start some tryouts next week."  
  
He ran to the door and spotted Ron and Hermione waiting for him at the staircase leading to the first floor. They all walked to the library and settled down in a far corner near a large window.  
  
"Let's try to have the same classes," Ron whispered, eyeing his empty programme. "And have a lot of free periods in the morning and in the afternoon."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and showed him what she had started on her parchment.  
  
"Okay, here is the deal. We need to attend double Charms on Monday morning, then... hum, I think we should continue Care of Magical Creatures, eh? Hagrid would be upset if we didn't... so yes, where was I? Double Charms, a break, then Care of Magical Creatures, lunch and... Double Defence Againt the Dark Arts."  
  
Hermione waited a moment as Ron and Harry scribbled the names of the classes in the right squares.  
  
"Tuesdays, we have... hum... history, for... three periods! These must be rather intensive..."  
  
"Three periods of extra sleep, Harry," Ron slurred.  
  
"Shut up, Ron," snapped Hermione. "We have a free afternoon since I'm sure you don't want to continue double Divination and I'm definitely not going back in... but there's Astronomy at eleven... Yes, you both are taking it and so am I... it is such an interesting subject..."  
  
It took them about forty-five minutes to settle down on an admirable schedule that Hermione was able to approve after having analysed it from all its angles. Harry and Ron didn't even need to put their minds together since they both needed the same classes but Hermione insisted that she should to continue Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. She also made it clear that Harry could not abandon History and that Ron should work harder in Charms.  
  
They walked back to the Great Hall and saw that the students were placing their schedules on the teacher's table and were being revised by some sort of quill that made sure every student attended the right classes at right hours. It took it a long time to correct Neville's paper but didn't make any changes to Harry, Ron or Hermione's charts, except maybe at the bottom of Harry's schedule, where it wrote 'Occlumency classes at eight o'clock on Wednesdays'.  
  
"It won't be that bad," Hermione had said to try to cheer him up. "Just don't think of it for now, let's go walk outside. We have no classes until after lunch and seeing our schedule on Mondays... we'll have Charms, double Defence and Astrology at 11 o'clock."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, let's go out," Harry garbled, wondering if Draco was going to be in his classes. "We need to talk about the Quidditch team and the D.A."  
  
Harry kept on walking and didn't notice his two friends eyeing each other uneasily.  
  
They walked to the main entrance without making a detour to their common room to get their cloaks because it was warm enough outside to be uncovered. Once they were at a good distance of the castle, Harry started talking again.  
  
"Ron, I think we're the only ones that are going to choose the new team members," he said quickly, staring at the ground in front of him. "I know Ginny would make a great Chaser and maybe Seamus would consider Beater, but besides that, I have no idea who could join. Dean told me he was maybe going to be the commentator because Lee Jordan left... Ron?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm listening," he said vaguely. "What about... Lavender Brown? I bet Parvati wouldn't hear of it, but Lavender might be a good chaser. I haven't seen her on a broom much, but she's always very enthralled during the Quidditch matches."  
  
"We could consider her," Harry muttered. "But... hum... well, Neville wanted to join as Beater."  
  
As Harry expected, Ron erupted into a fit of laughter.  
  
"Ron!" scowled Hermione. "Stop it, it's not nice!"  
  
"What about you, Hermione?" Harry asked teasingly. "Wanna join?"  
  
"Sorry but I prefer keeping my feet on the ground," she simply said.  
  
They had reached the lake and were now proceeding in walking around it. Ron and Hermione eyed each other uneasily but didn't say anything, following Harry.  
  
"Now about the D.A.," he said. "Maybe we should redo a list of who is still in and who's not."  
  
"Harry..." Hermione started, stopping by the lake, eyeing Ron for support. "We were hoping not to have to say this, but... well, yesterday... Dumbledore came to find us after a while, and he had a talk with us in his office."  
  
"What did he say?" asked Harry, staring blankly at his uneasy friends.  
  
"He... he made us promise something," Ron continued. "... you see, he said you disappointed him when you did whatever you did this summer and he wants us to... well, keep an eye on you."  
  
"I don't see the problem," Harry stated, shaking his head.  
  
"Harry, he doesn't want the D.A. to continue," Hermione whispered. "He said that it was not necessary anymore, that the Defence classes will be enough and that you shouldn't do other things like that..."  
  
"Oh, come on!" Harry growled. "It is not at all useless! He saw what we were capable of at the Ministry last year!"  
  
"We know Harry, but Dumbledore wouldn't hear of it," Ron said. "He also said... I know you're not going to like this one bit, but... well... he doesn't want you doing anything against You-Know-Who."  
  
Harry stared at them without saying a word.  
  
"What?" he asked dryly.  
  
"He made us promise, Harry," Hermione winced. "He doesn't want you to get hurt, that's all, I hope you understand that. He wants us to make sure you don't... hum, hurt yourself."  
  
"*Hurt* myself?" Harry repeated, looking at them coldly. "And what does 'not doing anything against Voldemort' mean for you?"  
  
"Harry, come on," Ron joked. "You know, we just won't do like for the Chamber of Secrets or the Philosopher's Stone, like the D.A. and at the Ministry... we'll let Dumbledore, the Order of the Phoenix and Aurors take care of it."  
  
"Ron, just imagine for a second what would have happened if we hadn't done anything all these years," Harry spat angrily. "Voldemort might have taken the stone and come back to life as an immortal five years ago, Ginny would be dead and Tom Riddle would have sent the Basilisk on all of us, Pettigrew wouldn't have joined Voldemort since he wouldn't have been scared off by Sirius' escape because my godfather wouldn't have been pushed to escape if he hadn't seen your family in the papers and so you would still have Scabbers by your side thinking he was just a rat and not the traitor that got my parents killed, I would not have had to face a fucking dragon or met stupid merpeople and dangerous creatures such as Centaurs, Aragog and Gwarp, your father would probably be dead and maybe, or if something else hadn't been done and I there had been just a little speck of luck in my life, I would have lived with my godfather and Cedric would not be dead!"  
  
With every statement he gave, Harry's voice grew louder and angrier.  
  
"Harry, don't start that again please," Hermione said seriously. "Just calm down, we only want you to stay safe, you know it."  
  
Harry sighed and his anger frittered away. He knew there was no point in being angry with Ron and Hermione. For a reason of for another, the saying 'Don't shoot the messenger' came to his mind. Dumbledore was the one that was stopping him, all because he had stayed at Draco's house for the summer. He was enraged.  
  
~I knew Draco would bring me trouble,~ he thought. ~Only trouble and sinful thoughts that come from nowhere. That's that. The only good thing is that no one knows what I think of him, even if it's not true and that it never will be and that its just nothing. No one will see-~  
  
"Oh no!" he shouted. "Occlumency!"  
  
Ron and Hermione stared at him for a moment, wondering how he could jump from one subject to another so quickly.  
  
"It only starts next week, Harry," Hermione said,  
  
"Oh no, no, no, no, no, no," Harry repeated, holding his head with both hands. "I can't do it anymore, I really can't!"  
  
"Why? What happened?" Ron asked nervously, shaking Harry's arm.  
  
"I will not take Occlumency lessons with Snape!" Harry yelled. 'No! He'll... he'll see..."  
  
"Harry, you've been acting so strange lately," Hermione muttered lowly, looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them. "Ever since you came back from wherever you've been... have you been having more dreams?"  
  
"No, I haven't had one since June," Harry said, surprised by her question. "I've just been having... thoughts, actually, but it's the last thing I want to talk about."  
  
"Thoughts, eh?" Ron asked, though there was a tinge of mockery in his voice.  
  
"Don't start, Ron!" Harry said playfully. "I'm definitely not sharing them with you!"  
  
"Fine!" he said, pretending to be greatly hurt by his comment. "Be that way."  
  
"Well, I'm glad you're not angry after us, now," Hermione said calmly, a small smile on her face.  
  
"Let's just go back inside," Harry said, shaking his head.  
  
They walked in silence for a while, Harry being tightly flanked by his two friends. They walked all the way back to the entrance and quickly climbed stairs and walked through hallways to reach the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
  
"Sneakoscope!" Hermione told her.  
  
The portrait swung sideways and they were able to enter their common room.  
  
"Hey!" Harry yelped, looking at the fireplace. "Why is the fireside bigger?"  
  
Ron and Hermione chuckled.  
  
"You really were sleeping while Dumbledore explained everything at the feast, weren't you?" Ron teased. "Haven't you heard about a certain dark wizard that has regained power not too long ago?"  
  
"I don't see the connection to a bigger fireplace," Harry quoted.  
  
"People just don't want to be chilly when he attacks," Ron explained.  
  
"Do shut up, Ron," Hermione said, punching his arm. "Haven't you heard about parents being afraid that their children were sent off here while You- Know-, hum... fine, 'Voldemort' was loose, Harry? There was this sort of parents committee and the majority voted so that their children could visit them through the Floo Network on Sundays only."  
  
"Dumbledore was completely against it, of course," Ron continued. "He said it wasn't safe for students to go running back and forth with Floo powder because some people might get lost, and he's actually completely right but they're not listening to him, *again*."  
  
"So the Floo Company made a private network for Hogwarts use only," Hermione went on. "It only connects between the school and the homes of the students, and anyways, it only works on Sundays and a teacher will be guarding the fireplaces when they are in use."  
  
"Right," Harry muttered.  
  
"Damn, it's already eleven thirty," Ron said. "Let's grab our Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts books and go down to the Great Hall. We can wait there before lunch. And anyhow, we need to find Lavender and Seamus to ask them if they want to join the team."  
  
Harry muttered his agreement and smiled, following Ron up to his dormitory to get his things ready. But as he took his books from his trunk, he remembered that he would have to face Draco to give him back the money he had used on his books. The thought of having to talk to Draco after all that had happened made a knot appear in his throat.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
This chapter was fun to write but the next one I find is particularly good ^_^ Yep, I think chapter 13 will be memorable, I think. Harry will face Draco... and the chapter will be my longest up to date... ^_^ (*must... study... biology! ... Spanish! ... French! ... Technology! ... Damn! Damn you all, teachers!*)  
  
Please review! 


	13. Chapter 13

Well the exams are over, its -38 degrees outside, there's wind and snow and ice and me in the middle of all that. Unfortunately, I did not study like I was supposed to and my results were only 'so-so' because I kept writing all the time. So, this chapter is long but goes relatively fast and I hope you have fun reading it... oh, and I'm sorry for the time I took to update.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
DarkJade1: Thank you! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. They're finally becoming friends again ^_^  
  
Hermionegreen: Hi! And Draco won't even need to really ask his dad for the Sundays with Harry at home because he thinks his father wants him to make Harry join the dark side... yeah -_-... he's going to use that as answer... thanks for reading!  
  
Relle: Yeah, I like making Dumbledore look bad. Mwehehe. And they're becoming friends here! *jumps up and down happily* and Harry will not like the idea of Occlumency at all... that's going to be special... Snape all pissed and inquisitive... lol... well, thanks!  
  
Beta 4 Hire: Absolutely! How incredibly true! Nice way to get rid of knots is a throat... what about butterflies in a stomach? Nah, don't give me an answer... lol... thanks! 8-)  
  
Justxme: thank you! And I try to update at least once each one or two weeks... I try... ^_^ And I'll put in more suspense!  
  
Miss-Aurelia: Tiens, j'suis déjà allée au Pays-Bas! Mais ma composition de français était bizarre... une légende sur 'Pourquoi le vent est-il invisible'... though I got the best note! But is German fun? Hard? My mom's Austrian, so I know a few words and I'm trying to learn... (*sees herself getting carried away*) well thanks!  
  
Sylvia Sylerton: Okay! Thanks, and I hope you like this chapter!  
  
Craw/Brad: French is okay because its my first language, but I would give anything to make my Spanish exam disappear... I needed to redo it 4 times last year because I kept failing... damn... well, thank you!  
  
Sailor Grape: So true! Harry wouldn't be Harry if he played it safe. But Hermione is going to take this whole 'protect and stop Harry' thing much too seriously and it's going to aggravate Harry...  
  
Lost: Thank you! I'm glad you understand why it's not rushed and I'm glad you like the mushiness ^_^ Two important parts of the story... thanks again!  
  
Curious Dream Weaver: Thanks!!! And Draco makes the first move in this chapter... go Draco!!!  
  
Shimmering dragon: I think Snape would be shocked, then he would snort and chuckle evilly if he knew what Harry was thinking. Lol... funny thing to imagine...  
  
Fiery Phoenix: Me too! I really like Harry/Draco stories! I'm happy you like it! Thank you!  
  
Nanami: Ah! I'm pleased you find them in-character and that you like my story! But Voldemort doesn't know what's happening in Hogwarts, (I invented that) he feels some of Harry's thoughts just like Harry sometimes feels how Voldemort feels. Thank you!  
  
Mrs Tom Riddle: Argentina... ¬_¬ you are so lucky!!! No drinking age? Lol!!! And I love your fic!!! Is the next chapter coming soon? I sure hope so...  
  
Jay: yes! Exams are evil. Very evil. And here is lucky chapter 13!!!  
  
Felton's Gal: Yep, Snape will find out eventually... ^_^ I'm still trying to invent his reaction... and you only have 2 exams? You're blessed (if we compare it to the 10 exams I had... beurk) well, have fun reading on!  
  
Nicoletta: I'm happy I make you think differently about Dumbledore because its what I wanted to do! He's over-protecting Harry, in a way. Thank you for reading!  
  
Andromeda Snape-Malfoy: Thank you ^_^ Sev is up to something... he's getting curious... mwehehe... well, I hope you enjoy the rest!  
  
PxW: Thank you so much for pointing that out! I had forgotten! Now I have to precise that they didn't want to do it anymore... thank you very much!  
  
FireFlare: thank you very much 8-) here is the rest...  
  
Usenotavailable: Here is more! Thank you for reading and reviewing! ^_^  
  
Anya et Xeres: Merci beaucoup! Et j'avoue que c'est amusant lire des reviews en français pour une fic en anglais... lol... et c'est un compliment ultime me dire que ça ressemble au vrais livres! Whaaa!!! Et encore merci pour avoir précisé ce que vous aimiez. Voici la suite!  
  
Benjis VIP: Thank you! I'm glad you find it interesting. Here is chapter 13!  
  
A Happy Little Bumble-bee: thank you for reviewing! I just can't wait 'till Harry and Draco are together... it will be fun...  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 13:  
  
Harry marched behind Ron and Hermione, watching their feet progress towards their Defence Against the Dark Arts class after their light lunch in the Great Hall. He did not look up, nor did he talk or listen to what his two friends were telling each other, trying to keep his mind from running off to the thought of Draco.  
  
He noticed an extra pair of shoes arrive as Seamus joined them when they arrived on the fourth floor. He walked next to Ron, proposing Quidditch tactics, seeing that he had indeed accepted to play as Beater for the team, unlike Lavender who was taking her time in deciding if she should or not become Chaser. There had been no need to ask Ginny her opinion and so she immediately became Chaser as well. There were still two more payers to find if Lavender joined, seeing that Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper had decided not to stay beaters for a second year.  
  
Harry sighed but still didn't say anything, still trying to convince himself that thinking of Draco was wrong. Many pairs of shoes passed by him and he didn't look up to see to whom they belonged. He knew they were nearly reaching the class and so the people passing him were only students that wanted good places.  
  
Yet a pair of leather shoes slowed down at his level and someone walked by him for some time. Curious, Harry's gaze made its way up to this person's face and was shocked when his eyes locked on Draco Malfoy's staring greyish- blue look. The Slytherin smiled curiously, yet there was unease emanating from him.  
  
Harry felt his insides melt the second his eyes met the Slytherin's. Two frozen lagoons in which he immediately started drowning. He was surprised that the feeling was not bitter but amazingly ablaze, almost unbearably so. His heart tripled its pulse and he was surprised he didn't just die of a heart attack on the spot when Draco smiled. On regular terms, Harry would have been molested by shame the moment these thoughts and feelings reached his mind, but this time, everything felt oddly... normal.  
  
The blond's smile and stare were lost when he looked back in front of him and walked by Ron and Hermione, soon followed by Crabbe and Goyle that hadn't noticed anything and that shoved Harry nearly through the wall as they passed him to join their leader.  
  
Harry ignored them, still stunned by what had just happened. He had thought Draco had wanted their summer memories to disappear once they returned at school! Harry shook his head.  
  
He knew it couldn't be like before anymore. He would be too ashamed to be around Draco, not because he was his rival and a Slytherin, but because of the thoughts he had had of him. Shame would eat him alive.  
  
~And if I told him, I can't imagine what would happen,~ he thought. ~And he's a GUY! I can't think of him like that! It's just... morally wrong... no?~  
  
Harry entered the class and saw that Draco had settled in the back of the room with the rest of the Slytherins while the Griffindors sat more in front. Ron and Hermione were already seated near the windows, pulling their books out of their school bags.  
  
Their new teacher entered the room.  
  
She had long black hair and a pale face, and was certainly did not seem older than thirty-five. Her robes were of a dark amethyst colour and had silver designs representing vines, sown into the fabric at certain places.  
  
Many students did not notice her silent entry. She slammed the books she was carrying, onto her desk to catch their attention. The room fell silent.  
  
"Please take your seats," she said calmly, a small smile on her face, her eyes half shut.  
  
The remaining students were not asked twice and sat down. She kept her eyes half closed, eyed the class slowly and finally smiled.  
  
"My name, like you have heard at the feast yesterday, is Sphinx Le Fey," she said, a French accent ringing strongly in her voice. "And so it will be Professor Le Fey, for all of you. And just for the record, I am not related to Morgan Le Fay, the legendary witch."  
  
A few giggles were heard here and there, but the class stayed relatively quiet, as if the professor had wordlessly ordered it.  
  
"Now, do any of you have any questions regarding myself before we start the class?" she said, making a few steps forward, her heels clicking on the floor.  
  
Hermione's hand rose into the air.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger?" she asked, her half closed eyes flicking in her direction ever so lightly, saying her name like she had been the teacher at Hogwarts for the past six years.  
  
"Euh... Have you ever taught before?" Hermione asked, making Ron and Harry smile strongly, both knowing that she was hoping she was a competent teacher.  
  
"Yes, I have," she said, smiling. "I taught ninety-eight years at Drumstang then one hundred and seventeen at BeauxBâtons."  
  
A murmur of incredulity ran through the classroom.  
  
"How... how is that possible?" Hermione asked, frowning deeply.  
  
The teacher's smile widened, two pointy fangs passing onto her lower lip.  
  
"It's incredible what a little bite can do," she said.  
  
The class stayed incredibly silent, all eyes staring at her with uncertainty. Professor Le Fey's smile disappeared.  
  
"Funny, I was expecting a revolt, maybe even a few screams," she said coldly, staring blankly at the class. "Now before you send owls flying to your parents with the news that a vampire is roaming around the school with the only intention of sucking the blood out of every living thing, know that I was hired because I have the capability of teaching and that I have used it for the last 205 years."  
  
Ron tentatively raised his hand and the teacher motioned him to talk.  
  
"You... you can stay in the sunlight?" he said, making various Slytherins laugh.  
  
"Yes, and I don't flee garlic either," she answered, her smile back on her lips. "Though I was a little allergic to it at the beginning. But, all of that would be much too long to explain and I have a tight schedule to attend to. We might study vampires during the next term if you want to. It seems that you haven't learned much over these past years, though... professor Lupin and Barty Crouch Jr. should have given competent classes, even though one was a werewolf and the other was a Death Eater. Seems that only odd people have given right classes around here... Well, please open your books at pages 345 and 346, we will revise the best defensive spells to use in critical conditions, hoping you already know them... four people up front for a demonstration..."  
  
The class in general was very interesting and Hermione seemed pleased about the new teacher, even though the fact she was a vampire shocked her a little. The rest of the week passed so quickly, Harry did not linger on the thought of Draco, except at night, when he could not focus his mind on anything else.  
  
On Friday afternoon Harry knew he needed to face Draco to give him the money he owned him. Hagrid made frequent visits to Diagon Alley for school and so it was not hard to ask him to bring back the desired amount of money from Harry's safe at Gringotts.  
  
On Saturday, Harry started thinking of a way to corner Draco when he would be separated from all his Slytherin supporters. He stalked the blond boy for a good part of the day and finally caught him off guard after four o'clock, when Crabbe and Goyle were off to the kitchens for their afternoon snack.  
  
He stepped out in front of him, a serious look on his face. Draco stopped in his tracks and stared at the Griffindor, looking quite unaffected by his presence. Little did Harry know that Draco was actually ready to laugh out his joy of seeing him again but was forced of hiding it because... he was a Malfoy; and Malfoys did not show feelings unless they were sure they could not betray, and Draco knew his were too untrustworthy to play with. He could definitely not show them.  
  
A tinge of red appeared on Harry's cheeks and he looked down from Draco's eyes, preferring to stare at his feet while his clenched hands stayed on his sides. Draco sighed, successfully pretending of being annoyed.  
  
"I... I need to talk to you," Harry mumbled.  
  
Draco didn't answer, preferring to keep his mouth shut instead of saying something disobliging to the feelings that were rushing to his head again.  
  
"I owe you money, remember?" Harry said tentatively, pulling out the pouch of galleons from his pocket. "I... I just wanted to give this back and thank you for... for..."  
  
"For having lent you money?" Draco finished, eyeing Harry pleasantly curious, a devious smile on his face.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Harry handed out the pouch and Draco took his time of taking it, analysing the expressions defiling on the Girffindor's face. He felt oddly... contented by them.  
  
"Thanks, Harry," Draco said, trying to sound calm, putting the pouch in his own pocket.  
  
"Back off, Malfoy!" someone yelled, running in their direction.  
  
Harry turned around and saw Ron rushing forward, stopping at his level, glaring at Draco. The Slytherin smiled. Harry looked terrified, praying interiorly that Draco wasn't going to say something Ron shouldn't know.  
  
"So, as I was saying, Potter," he said, turning towards Harry's pleading face. "Its not like you would use the Hogwarts Floo network to go home to your stupid muggle relatives. They hate you, you see? And actually, everyone with a life hate you, some just pretend to have a little bit of attention."  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ron spat.  
  
"Aren't you due back in you dirt-hole with the rest of your rodent family, Weasel boy?" Draco said, his eyebrows rising on his forehead.  
  
"Fuck you!"  
  
"Ron, come on, lets go," Harry said, pulling his friend away, ignoring Draco's laugh in the background.  
  
~~~  
  
Draco had returned to his house with the Floo powder network on Sunday morning, already wanting a small break from school. He had changed into a dark blue pull-over and black pants and had ate his breakfast in the kitchen, just like he and Harry used to do, wondering why the Griffindor had the habit of eating each bite of his pancakes with carefully cut sausages.  
  
~Unfortunately, I will not have the opportunity of analysing the rest of his little routines.~ Draco thought sorrowfully as he covered his toast with an even layer of strawberry jam. ~I don't even know why I'm saddened by that, anyways. I don't even know why I'm interested in him! He's... he's a Griffindor, he's a male, he had a mudblood mother, he believes in Dumbledore's ideals... his hair is too scruffy, he beats me at Quidditch, he's too lean... and... and he's a guy!~  
  
Draco was disgusted but incredibly interested in why he was feeling like that about Harry.  
  
~Can't deny it, you miss him,~ he told himself.  
  
"Now how is my favourite nephew doing?" a female voice asked from the doorway.  
  
Draco turned around and saw Bellatrix leaning on the door, wearing a tight black dress and corset, her arms crossed in front of her and her blood-red lips forming a smile.  
  
"I'm your *only* nephew," Draco simply answered.  
  
"Yes, well I guess Nymphadora Tonks doesn't count then," Bellatrix said, her smile widening as she entered the room.  
  
"Where were you and the Death Eaters yestereday?"  
  
"Firewhiskey," she said to a house elf before sitting down in front of Draco. "We just went for a little stroll in London, nothing much."  
  
Draco smirked and shook his head just as a house elf placed a small glass of the desired drink in front of Bellatrix. She took a sip of Firewhiskey and smiled again.  
  
"How is school?" she asked sheepishly, her fingers running on the rim of her glass.  
  
"Fine," Draco said, frowning. "Why'd you ask?"  
  
"Well Lucius told me you had quite an... attention-grabbing summer."  
  
"Really," Draco commented dryly.  
  
"Yes, he said you were trying to incite *him* to our ways. Did it work?"  
  
"I don't think so," Draco mumbled, rolling his eyes, looking back at his plate. "And what is my father doing?"  
  
"I bet you'd love to know," Bella teased.  
  
"Yes, well I have something better to do," Draco snapped, getting up from his place, drinking a last sip of butterbeer.  
  
Bellatrix chuckled. "I'll see you later then," she said, letting him go.  
  
Draco left the kitchen and walked through a large hallway bordered by windows. He passed a stone archway and arrived in what he describes as the most beautiful place in his home: the glasshouse.  
  
From where he stood, he could see everything of it but once he was down the stone steps, he was assaulted by foliage. The room itself was a gigantic circular room in which a forest of greenery could be found. Trees went up to twenty to twenty-five metres and were not close to touching the glass ceiling. Cobblestone paths went through the vegetation in zigzags, an undying balmy humidity hung in the air and most of the plants were usually covered in cool mist. Flowers of magnificent colours had blossomed in all places, vines climbed up on the glass walls and there were even a few birds perched on high branches, singing their special melodies.  
  
Draco made his way through a path on his left and ended up on a circular terrace with a moss-covered cobblestone floor where he found numerous chairs and a table. Flowers surrounded him, exuding their delicate perfumes. He smiled.  
  
~I never showed this place to Harry,~ he thought sadly. ~What a pity.~  
  
He sat down on one of the chairs and placed his feet on another, bringing his knees up.  
  
~What if I just walked up to him?~ he asked himself. ~Nah, I can't do that after what happened in the bathroom. I can't even face him into the hallway without being attacked by those feelings.~  
  
He sighed, knowing that his school year would be terribly hard if it went on like that.  
  
~I need to talk to him...~ he thought on. ~But at the same time... I just can't!~  
  
Growling, he let his head fall back onto the back of his chair, staring at the treetops on top of him.  
  
What about a letter?  
  
He smiled. Yes, a letter would be perfect. A letter, just like before.  
  
He pulled out his wand and created a quill and piece of parchment paper. He quickly started writing, knowing that after what had happened, Harry could not reject him. He knew it by the way he reddened and looked away every time they were in the same room.  
  
Dear Rival...  
  
~~~  
  
Bellatrix was standing under the stone archway leading into the glasshouse, arms crossed and a stern look on her face as she looked at Draco. Steps were heard behind her and Lucius appeared, placing a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Look at him, Lucius," Bella said. "Look at what he's doing! I simply can't understand. There is no logic at all. He's writing a letter to the Potter boy like he would to a friend!"  
  
"The Dark Lord says that's what is happening," Lucius said, eyeing his son sadly. "He says it's almost friendship. And I can't do anything to stop it because he wants to use it as trap."  
  
"It's unconceivable," Bellatrix noted. "Out of all people... Draco. A future Death Eater. If he knew about Lord Voldemort's plan, maybe I would understand, but just like that, it's absurd."  
  
"I know," Lucius simply answered. "I don't know what's happening."  
  
Sighing, they both walked away after one last look in Draco's direction, watching him write frenetically on the piece of parchment as if his life depended on it.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry and Ron were sitting in the common room late after dinner, forced into finishing their homework of the week by Hermione, who was herself making her last Runes chart while rereading her report on who knows what, for History class, when Pig came zooming into the room, carrying a package three times his size. He started chipping happily when Ron grabbed him.  
  
"What has he got here?" Ron mumbled, unwrapping the parcel. "Ah, the Daily Prophet! I asked Fred and George to send it because mum and dad say we shouldn't keep reading it. They're just trying to stop us from knowing what's going on."  
  
"What does it say?" asked Harry, seeing Ron frown as he read the article on the first page.  
  
"Death Eater attack, yesterday afternoon," Ron said lowly. "Seven deaths. Five wizards, two muggles."  
  
"How horrible!" growled Hermione, getting on her feet. "Where did they attack? What happened?"  
  
"They showed up in London, not too far away from Diagon Alley where the Ministry was keeping a small warehouse with weapons. Fudge doesn't want to say what kinds of weapons were being kept. They're all keeping it low."  
  
"I wonder what it could be," Harry whispered. "Were the weapons taken?" he asked.  
  
"They don't say," Ron answered.  
  
"Strange," simply said Hermione, going back to her homework.  
  
"Do you think the Order played a role in this?" asked Harry.  
  
"No idea," Ron said. "Maybe I could ask dad but I doubt he'll answer."  
  
Harry made a sound and returned to his homework. Ron did the same after having flicked all the pages of the newspaper. Their quills scrapped on their rolls of parchment and Hermione muttered her answers out loud while Ron just grumbled that he couldn't find the ones he was looking for. Dean was sitting at another table, suggesting moves to Neville, who was playing chess against Seamus. Ginny and a couple of her friends were by the fire, giggling silently at whatever they were talking about. Harry looked up from his parchment and gazed at the room for a moment.  
  
"I can't work anymore," he sighed, closing his books. "I'm just going to go for a stroll before going to bed."  
  
"Can't go out of our dorms after ten, Harry," Hermione said quickly, writing a few more words on her paper.  
  
"Yes, I know that Herm'," Harry said jokingly. "And I don't intend to be seen, either."  
  
"Invisibility cloak?" Ron said, smiling.  
  
"Of course," Harry affirmed.  
  
"Sorry Harry, I'm not letting you," Hermione said, keeping her eyes on her homework.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Dumbledore made me promise, Harry," she simply whispered.  
  
"Hermione," Harry grumbled. "I'm just going for a walk!"  
  
"And we promised, Harry!" Hermione replied.  
  
"Well Herm', I think we can let him walk-" Ron started.  
  
"No, Ron," Hermione cut off. "No walks after curfew."  
  
Harry sighed angrily and marched away, his books in his hands.  
  
"I can't believe you, Hermione!" he growled before storming off.  
  
Harry climbed the stairs leading to his dormitory. He pushed the door open and closed it behind him, locking himself into obscurity. Heaving a sigh, he noticed that his breath came out in haze and that is was quite cold in the room. The window next to his four-poster bed was open.  
  
He ran to it, shut it closed before wondering why it had been opened in the first place. His eyes ran through the darkness, trying to find an explanation.  
  
"Ron, most probably," he whispered, opening one of the curtains around his bed before jumping onto it.  
  
He leaned on his pillows and smiled to himself, shaking his head. Two gleaming yellow eyes stared back at him.  
  
Harry jumped backwards and pulled out his wand.  
  
"Lumos!" he said, the area covering his mattress being illuminated by his wand.  
  
An owl was perched in front of him on the footboard, blinking lazily in his direction.  
  
"Mischief?" Harry asked, Draco's eagle owl raising his head in approval. "What... what are you doing here?"  
  
The owl hooted very calmly, shaking its leg. Harry's eyes widened in shock as he looked down and saw a letter tied to it.  
  
"Oh... Oh... m-my... God..." Harry said incoherently, jumping to his knees and grabbing the letter.  
  
He opened the window so that Draco's owl could leave and sat back onto his bed, ripping the envelope impatiently, anxiety taking the better of him. He was overwhelmed when he recognized the soothing writing of his rival. He read it hungrily, deciphering each word with such ardour, it was like he had gone out of something vital for too long.  
  
Dear Rival,  
  
I kind of always knew this was going to happen, ever since you sent me your first letter and provoked me into replying. I pushed myself into believing that you weren't anything else than a distraction from my boring summer. I decided to ignore, just for that period of time, that you had sent my father to Azkaban, that you kept aggravating me when you beat me at Quidditch, teased and regarded me with scorn, and especially when you had refused my hand in our first year. I pushed all of that away and I got to see... how you really were. And I was amazed. You really were not how I thought you were. Time passed, and for an unexplained reason, I accepted that you come at my residence, thinking that what was happening would end as soon as we went back at Hogwarts.  
  
But then, the most curious thing happened. I felt... *angry* that you were gone. How I felt is too complicated to put onto paper, but let's just say I was annoyed that we simply parted that way. Maybe it was because you were the first person that understood me, even if it was just a little, even if you were maybe only pretending to. A sense of irreplaceable loss attacked me, and from how I saw you acting since the beginning of school, I think you feel the same way.  
  
I do not want to feel that way anymore, and by writing this letter, my suffering diminishes in some way. Because I wanted to be able to forget you, to hate you again, but what I had pushed myself to ignore when I started writing to you just wouldn't come back. I can't hate you anymore.  
  
As for now, I'm still here.  
  
Your rival, Draco Malfoy  
  
Harry was still staring at the letter when Ron and his roommates entered, settled down for the night, thinking he was already asleep.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
^_^ I like this chapter. Finally a bit of chemistry going on between Harry and Draco. The slash is not too far away now, even though a lot will happen before they finally kiss! You see, they're a little shy...  
  
Hum... I was a bit reticent in creating Sphinx Le Fey but I wanted an interesting new teacher. She will not have a prominent role in the story but will maybe have a small place in further chapters when it comes to Harry and Draco's hidden relationship and secret meetings... hehe... -_^  
  
As for Voldemort and his lovely minions, they are keeping an eye on Draco with questioning stares...  
  
I'm in the school play, by the way. I kept smiling when the teacher was explaining what the story was about: a girl is locked away by her tutor because he wants to marry her and not have young men after her, but she drops letters off her balcony for the guy she likes, a young count, and they exchange letters, then he plots to get her and get the old tutor out of the way. ^_^ I play the count. ^_^ I know, I'm a girl, but I go to a girl school so it doesn't change anything and I wanted that role anyways. -_-  
  
Please review! 


	14. Chapter 14

The very long delay taken to update this story was due to a severe case of author's block. At first, I reluctantly took some time off to plan everything in my head but then I couldn't write anything because... it just sucked! Everything I wrote didn't seem good enough, I felt I was having vocabulary loss, the plot was there but there was no 'feeling' in it. So all I could do was wait for it to pass. At the end of March, I was telling myself to just write this chapter and send it and not hesitate but I never got to finish it before my trip to Europe. I went on a tour of Italy and told myself that a trip was just the thing to completely erase this author's block and I'm happy to say that I think it worked.  
  
To all my reviewers: I love you people!!! Seriously!!! You rock my world!!!  
  
Redmeadow: Yes, Hermione shall be pushed off a balcony!!! Not literally, but yes, it will happen. Hermione is like... the person who stops everyone because 'she cares'. And Harry will become more confident of himself and less preoccupied by what she says; he just listens a little bit because she's his friend. Yeah. But I totally understand how you feel. Thank you!  
  
Benjis VIP: Yeah! It's a slope from here... no more hard work... I think... well, thank you!!!  
  
CuriousDreamWeaver: I like how you say 'they're back together in a way' lol Thanks! I hope you enjoy the rest.  
  
Jay: chemistry! Yes! I'm glad you liked it, here is the rest   
  
Craw/Brad: Yup yup, they will start talking again. They miss each other! Yeah! And Hermione and Ron's reaction? I'm planning something for that... mweheheh... yes, well, as always, thank you very much!  
  
Hannahpotter-ilovehp: thank you! I'm sorry for the time this update took, though... author's block... hum...  
  
Miss-Aurelia: Bah, a girl's school isn't all that bad! And about German, yeah, I don't think I'll succeed. I'm just trying it out for fun because I like the 'sound' of how they talk. I've been to Amsterdam! And it's so cool; it's not a boring country! Well, thanks for your review, I really appreciate it... Ah, and I'm half French and half Austrian/Canadian.  
  
Beloved: Well, I didn't want to go too fast for the slash, but now it's coming quite quickly, in a way. Thank you!  
  
Sailor Grape: I like that you noticed that Draco didn't hesitate in writing the letter! He's more comfortable with it now... and yes, the vampire will bring an interesting zing to the story! Lol, so you don't like Bellatrix!? Lol... well, thank you, as always!  
  
Beta 4 Hire: Uke... what does that mean? Yup yup! The fluff is coming! Well, thanks!  
  
Justxme: I'm sorry I took more than two weeks! Sorry sorry sorry... but thank you for having reviewed! Here is the next chapter!  
  
Labyrinth1119: Me too! I can't wait till they kiss! It's going to be so cute! Long live Harry/Draco! Thank you!  
  
Dark-Fox: Here it is, I hope you like it! Thanks!  
  
Immortal Memories: Yeah, I wonder if Rowling is going to put a vampire as the defence teacher in book 6 or 7... hum... I'm glad you like it, thanks!  
  
Godric1: I'm sorry I took so long to update. Thank you for reading and reviewing, I hope you like the rest!  
  
Drusillia13: I'm glad I got to make their emotions plausible! That's exactly what I wanted to do thank you very much, I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
  
Relle: LOL!!! 'the manipulative swine'... hahaha... that's good... and Snape's reaction will be... hehe... well, he's going to wonder and speculate and be himself... yeah... thank you for reviewing, as always! It's very appreciated! I hope you like this chapter too!  
  
Mrs Tom Riddle: Bah, there are only two stories I have that are not translated in English yet, but if your really want to read them, I'll translate them. Now I need to go read your story! Yay! Well, thank you!  
  
Shimmering dragon: thanks! and sorry for the delay!  
  
Toreen: thank you! this chapter is rather long, have fun reading!  
  
A Happy Little Bumble-bee: Voldie's not going to show up too soon, but he has a great plan! I'm really happy you enjoy it! thanks!  
  
Anya et Xeres: merci beaucoup! La pièee avance bien, en passant. Voici la suite!  
  
Lucky limeade: the chemistry is coming up very very fast now! I like that you like it! Thanks! :)  
  
Xessive: Thanks for reviewing! I will get rid of ron and hermione... lol  
  
Drake86: I will get rid of Ron and Herm'! Thank you for your review!  
  
Red Kasei: I'm pleased you like my story!  
  
Alexandria: Thank you for pushing me in the back. I need it some times. I'm sorry for the time I took to update. My author's block wouldn't go away. I did try to write but all my ideas couldn't be put to good use. It seemed that all I did was crap :S But I'm back and the story goes on! Thank you!  
  
Tobby: Of course I remember you! And now that I know you have a story, I shall go read it :D As you might have noticed, I write in French and in English and I also get lost in translation with names of people, places and objects. Madame Bibine, Tom Elvis Jedusor, Cornedrue... c'est tellement différent qu'en Anglais! Mais bon, je m'emporte. Thank you very much for your reviews. I love reading them. And I'm pleased you're not bothered by the fact its going to be a slash!  
  
LadyLilyPotter: Thank you! I didn't know there weren't many mild H/D on ff.net... I haven't read any fanfics for a while (stuck into writing my own stuff) so I couldn't say. And that is a question that is hard to be answered because I can't see Harry really turn dark and I definitely can't make Draco go light since that would be traumatizing OOC-ness!  
  
Beca: here it is! Thank you!  
  
Chapter 14: Professor Le Fey's flowers  
  
It was five in the morning and Harry was smiling like there was no tomorrow, walking toward the owlery, a letter clutched in his right hand. He needed to send his reply with one of the school owls because some Slytherins could recognize Hedwig as his owl and both he and his rival did not want to make their correspondence known to anyone.  
  
He passed the arched passageway and arrived in the circular room filled with barn owls, noticing that this room was much colder than in the rest of the school seeing that the windows did not close. His breath coming out in puffs of white haze, he eyed all the birds near him, finally choosing a particularly good-looking beige one. He gave it his letter after passing his hand on its soft head a couple of times then walked to one of the portholes with the bird on his shoulder.  
  
Autumn was already in the air even though September had barely started. The leaves had not started changing colour but the air was fresh and in the early morning, the grass was covered with frozen dew that sparkled here and there from time to time as the light shifted in its untouched surface.  
  
"Up so early, Harry?" a voice asked, making the owl on the young man's arm fly away precipitately, leaving a few feathers on the window's ledge.  
  
Harry didn't bother turning around, knowing that it was Dumbledore, and knowing that he had been standing there for some time. The headmaster chuckled lightly as he stepped into the owlery, the straw under his feet cracking frivolously as he passed.  
  
"How are you doing?" he asked.  
  
Harry clenched his teeth and his grip on the cold windowsill tightened.  
  
"Fine," he simply answered, turning around to face his interlocutor. "Now lets clear out something. Just tell me if I can know why you pushed Ron and Hermione into 'protecting' me."  
  
"Straight to the problem, just like your father would have done," the headmaster said, a small smile forming on his lips as he placed his hands in the pockets of his maroon robes.  
  
"Why?" repeated Harry, starting to get aggravated by the mere sight of the old man. "How many times to I have to repeat to you all that I'm old enough to take care of myself?"  
  
"You're evidently not, seeing what you did this summer," answered Dumbledore, petting one of the owls. "Your foolishness made us see that you did need more protection. But there is one thing we cannot do; we can't protect you from yourself. Bear that in mind, will you?"  
  
And with that, he left, leaving Harry in a rather indescribable mood. The young man leaned on the wall and slid to the floor.  
  
"Fuck you," he whispered, hiding his head in his arms.  
  
Harry walked into the last class he was supposed to have that morning, double potions, and his eyes widened in amazement. The Slytherin was sitting at a table in a far corner, watching everyone walk in. Since the first period of the day, he had been in every class Harry had chosen! In fact, the Griffindor was starting to think it was maybe more than providence.  
  
"What are you waiting for?" Ron asked, pushing him in the back. "Walk!"  
  
Harry obeyed and took a seat near the wall, Ron sitting next to him and Hermione behind them. Snape soon walked in, a gust of wind billowing his robes as he marched quickly up to his desk. He started talking about how he was not going to tolerate students that did not make a suitable effort and that they would be kicked out of his class if anything wrong happened.  
  
Harry spent most of the class eyeing his rival, trying to detect any change in attitude in him. He almost blew his cover when Draco turned his way and smiled before returning to taking notes but besides that, nothing much happened except perhaps Snape who kept looking at Harry peculiarly.  
  
The rest of the day passed quickly, but not fast enough to the Griffindor's liking. All he wanted was to go back to his room, see if his rival had sent him anything and write back. He wanted to hear about his day from his point of view, see his writing, stare at each word and hopelessly try to see if there could be a second meaning to what he said, if it was possible, unfeasibly possible that he could feel the same way.  
  
They sent each other letters at night, talked about everything and nothing like they usually did back in the summer time. But in front of everyone, they pretended to ignore each other.  
  
It was Friday night and the three Griffindors were sitting in the common room rather late that night, finishing their homework. Pig zoomed in at one point, holding a rolled up newspaper. He dropped it in front of his master and rushed to the mantelpiece over the fireplace.  
  
"There's been another attack," whispered Ron, his face as white as it could become.  
  
Harry and Hermione stopped what they were doing and turned to him, waiting for him to reveal the details of this disastrous news. Ron's eyes moved from left to right as he read the article, muttering it under his breath. He frowned sadly and looked up to his friends once he was done.  
  
"Twenty-one deaths," he muttered almost inaudibly. "Twelve muggle-born witches and wizards and nine muggles related to them. Six of all of them were under ten years old."  
  
Hermione covered her mouth and a stifled sound escaped her mouth. Harry looked away and sighed, looking at the other Griffindors around the room without seeing them. Twenty-one lives.  
  
"The Ministry says there was no apparent reason to justify their attack," Ron continued.  
  
Harry's eyes widened.  
  
"JUSTIFY THEIR ATTACK?" he bellowed, unable to stop himself from jumping to his feet in outrage. "They're DEATH EATERS, for God's sake! And the Ministry is trying to JUSTIFY them? What the hell is this world coming to?"  
  
Most of the students in the room had stopped talking and had turned in his direction. Hermione composedly asked him to sit and calm down.  
  
"Hermione, I'm getting sick of you telling me to calm down," Harry spat heatedly. "Especially in situations like this."  
  
"Harry, everyone was listening to you," Hermione said. "You're going to make them completely panic if they see you like this."  
  
"They have a right to know what's happening," continued Harry.  
  
"No they don't Harry," Hermione went on, looking straight into his eyes. "They have the right to live in peace, to know that they are safe and that- "  
  
"-they will live happily ever after," finished Harry. "Damn, what do you think this is, Hermione? They are NOT safe! They shouldn't even be allowed to be in peace in times like this!"  
  
"Harry!" growled Hermione indignantly.  
  
"No, stop it!" continued Harry. "You heard what happened! Twenty-one people died! 'Let the ministry, the Order and the Aurors take care of it' you say, well look!" he said, dangling the Daily Prophet. "They can't do anything against them!"  
  
"AND NEITHER CAN YOU!" yelled Hermione, getting to her feet, ignoring all the students staring at them. "Not without scarifying everything in return! YOU know it! You drag people along whether you like it or not and they get hurt! What about Cedric? What about Sirius? You know you can't go against those Death Eaters!"  
  
"If I can't, no one can, Hermione," spat Harry.  
  
"Stop thinking you're better than all of us!" Hermione squealed, her knuckles as white as snow.  
  
"Well excuse me but I think I can do a lot of better things than letting twenty-one innocent people die!"  
  
"Only by making twenty-one other pass on!" Hermione replied. "You have no idea how much people were worried sick because of you this summer! Can't you just be a normal wizard for just one or two school years? Why do you always have to be the hero? What stupid thing did you try doing this summer? Why can't you-"  
  
"Why do you always bring things back to what I did this summer?" Harry yelled. "It's none of your fucking business!"  
  
"Oh come on, Harry, Hermione, calm down, please," pleaded Ron in a little voice.  
  
"RON, stay out of this!" roared Harry, glaring at him before looking back towards Hermione.  
  
"Stop telling him what to do!" shouted Hermione.  
  
Harry stormed out of the common room and quickly walked away, wanting to get away from Hermione and Ron as fast as possible. It was quarter to eleven and he was out of his dorm without his invisibility cloak or the Marauders' map to guide him away from everyone. He was fuming with anger in such a way that he was surprised that he could not blow up the whole hallway devoid of the use of magic. Hands forming fists, he marched away without knowing where he was going, his mind overtaken by rage.  
  
He stopped after a very long time, somewhere on the seventh or eighth level, and entered the first room he passed. It was plunged in soothing obscurity, the wall parallel to the hallway being exclusively covered by windows through which the lands could be seen. The moon seemed almost too bright, making everything in the room have shadows as unavoidable companions. Unused desks were pilled up in the back of the class, some of them even being covered by white drapes to prevent dust from touching them. A blackboard the length of the opposite wall stayed unused and the teacher's desk had been removed from the small stage where a professor had once stood.  
  
Harry then noticed that long wooden tables had been arranged near the windows and that large rectangular containers had been placed on them. In these containers were leafy plants with large flowers that Harry was sure he had never seen before. They were all turned towards the moon, their layers of petals expanding in direction of the light source. By their shape, they looked greatly like amaryllises, these flowers that bloomed only once, during Christmas time. The main differences were the strange, silver-rimmed, dark-green, and seemingly velvety leaves from which they erupted and the colour of their petals, which was even darker than the blackboard of the room. A black that made Harry's school robes seem grey.  
  
The Griffindor stared at them for a moment, wondering what they were doing in an empty classroom, but quickly started looking for something, anything on which he could unleash his anger. He settled on flowerpots neatly aligned under the tables that supported the black flowers. He summoned them with a few flicks of his wand and placed them around the room. He then proceeded in making them explode, one after the other, sending pieces of broken terracotta flying everywhere.  
  
The detonations were deafening, almost comparable to his fury. Half of the unused pots had been destroyed by the time his anger started shattering yet he would have continued if a piece of ceramic hadn't flown in the wrong direction, cutting deep into his left hand. He cursed and instinctively brought his wounded hand to his mouth, finding the pain rather strong for a simple cut.  
  
"Let me help you with that," an amused voice said into his left ear.  
  
Harry jumped and turned around to find himself face to face with none other than Draco Malfoy. A freezing sensation shivered down his spine. The Slytherin gently grabbed Harry's injured hand, a small smile on his calm features. Harry was praying he seemed as composed as his rival, unable to stop the thoughts from coming back to him, making him realize how close Draco was, that he would barely have to move to touch him. His heart distinctively started beating faster.  
  
"It's funny," the blond Slytherin said calmly, "I had the feeling you would show up."  
  
"Wha... what are you doing here?" slowly articulated Harry.  
  
Draco's eyes moved from the hand he was holding to the green eyes perfectly at his level, barely three inches from him.  
  
"I was just sitting in my corner, minding my own business when you barged in here and started blowing stuff up," he said mockingly.  
  
His rival wrapped his hand in a very soft material but Harry was too occupied staring at the Slytherin with fascination, understanding for the first time, but still not accepting, what the feelings he had been having were all about.  
  
You knew it would come up to this! You knew you couldn't satisfy yourself with letters! Look at him! How can you stand being away from him? How dare you force yourself to forget the sweet aroma that followed him everywhere during the summer? Why do you resist holding him in your arms? Why are you afraid? Where is your Griffindor courage? Why are you scared of talking to him? Shame? How could it be shameful to adore a creature such as him? You're afraid of losing him? How can you be afraid of losing him when he's not even yours yet?  
  
Draco looked up, saw Harry staring at him and looked back down at the wounded hand, a shade of red –only noticeable by Harry – appearing on his cheeks. A striking fact hit the blond boy: why didn't I just smirk and say some sort of wicked statement?  
  
You dimwit, Draco! What would your father say of this? You're a disgrace to the family name! Do everyone a favour and throw yourself the killing curse. These feelings are changing you. If it goes on like this, Potter will notice, he'll take advantage, use you, his father's voice echoed in his head.  
  
Forget who's last name you carry! You can't escape your thoughts, your dreams, and all of them have been focusing on that messy-haired boy in front of you. You knew it would all lead to this, no? He's your destruction and your salvation, the one thing you're afraid of losing. The one thing you'd put everything at risk for... don't let him go.  
  
"Moonlight Deaths," Draco mumbled. "The flowers, they're called Moonlight Deaths," he repeated uncomfortably.  
  
"And... wh-what are they doing here?" Harry said, still staring at him.  
  
"They belong to professor Le Fey," Draco answered, looking everywhere but in Harry's eyes. "She didn't want to put them in the school greenhouses because there wasn't enough place and she wanted to make sure nothing would happen to them. They die in the sunlight and live thanks to moonlight, which, as you know, is much more soft. You can make killing poisons with the petals, but I don't know how. Oh, and the pollen can cause mortal health problems."  
  
"Then what were you doing here?" Harry asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice.  
  
Draco looked up at him, a little startled by his concern. He smiled.  
  
"They're beautiful when in bloom," he whispered. "And I needed calm to think and knew no one hanged around this part of the castle often."  
  
They fell silent again, Harry staring at the flowers, a little lightheaded by the Slytherin's close presence.  
  
"I'm not very good with things like this," Draco said, still not looking directly at Harry.  
  
Harry was momentarily torn between thinking that his rival was talking about his wound or the situation they were in, but he sighed, believing he was the only one in the room living with thoughts such as the ones that were toying with his mind.  
  
"Yeah..." Draco continued, Harry perceiving his strong unease, "I never know what to do."  
  
Draco backed away, taking a deep breath, like if Harry's proximity had brought him a lack of oxygen.  
  
"Oh, it's fine," Harry said, seeing his carefully bandaged hand, noticing that his blood was already soaking the material.  
  
"No, no," whispered Draco to himself. "You... you're a complete imbecile. You cut a vein. I'll bring you to madam Pomfrey."  
  
Draco was already halfway out the door and so Harry did not have time to object and followed him out. The Slytherin marched in front, knowing that Harry was following him by the sound of his steps a few metres behind him. They did not say a word to each other until they reached the infirmary. Draco stopped at the door and turned towards Harry.  
  
"Go in, say you were doing your homework in your common room when you saw that the fire was dieing so you got up, walked to the mantelpiece, tripped and cut yourself on the ledge," he said. "It would be better that you didn't mention running out of your dorm, hiding in a room full of deadly flowers in which I was hiding in the first place and blowing up professor Le Fey's Italian ceramic pots."  
  
Harry smiled and looked down, muttering thanks before pushing the door and walking in.  
  
The room was very dimly lit and only two beds were in use, one by a first year that had been hexed by Peeves and a third grader than had been bit by an animal Hagrid had presented in his class. Harry walked up to the nurse's desk and found her writing on some charts that belonged in various files that were spread out in front of her. He raised his injured hand before she could ask what was wrong and said exactly what Draco had told him to repeat.  
  
Madam Pomfrey took a look at the wound, grumbled under her breath, pulled out her wand and a small bottle from a pocket of her outfit. She then inspected his hand carefully as the wound seemed to mend, ordered a bandage to wrap itself around it and told him to clean it regularly. A good fifteen minutes had passed when she finally told him he could leave.  
  
"Now go back to your dorm and try not to break an arm in the stairs," she said, directing him towards the door.  
  
A tinge of red appeared on the Griffindor's face but he decided not to reply, pushing the door open and stepping into the corridor. He sighed and started walking towards the Griffindor Tower when an annoyed cough was heard behind him. He turned around and smiled, taken aback.  
  
"You... you waited for me?" Harry asked, genuinely surprised.  
  
Draco scratched his head uncomfortably, as if trying to find another explication for his being there.  
  
"You could put it that way, I guess, but you can also think that maybe I would have liked to be certain that you hadn't mentioned me in your whole masquerade and that I wasn't going to get punished because of your idiocy," he finally said. "I know I'm a Prefect but I could still get into trouble. But now I see that you're fine and that I'm fine and so I'll be off."  
  
"WAIT!" exclaimed the Griffindor, seeing Draco just walk away in the opposite direction.  
  
Draco jumped backwards and covered Harry's mouth with one of his hands, holding him by the arm with the other.  
  
"Would you mind not talking so loud, for Merlin's sake!" the Slytherin hissed. "What are you trying to do? Wake up the whole school?"  
  
Harry was still under the shock that Draco's hand had actually touched him to take notice of what he had said. Draco removed his hand and stared at him, a tinge of concern on his face as the Griffindor stared back at him.  
  
"What?" asked Draco, making a step back.  
  
"Stay with me," Harry blurted out.  
  
A moment of silence followed his claim.  
  
"What?" finally repeated Draco.  
  
What now, genius? Scream out that you like spending time with your rival and call it quits? He'll make fun of you! Hide everything! Find a reason! A good reason! Harry shook his head. "I... I want to make a deal with you."  
  
"A deal?" repeated Draco, a completely astonished look on his features. Now I wasn't expecting that.  
  
"Yeah..." muttered Harry, his mind searching for a reason. "For you... for you... for you to teach me the Dark Arts!"  
  
Draco's expression changed from surprise to interest and finally fell back to his usual smirk. He crossed his arms and took a relaxed position.  
  
"Now... why would your pretty little head go think that I would know Dark Arts?" he said mockingly, knowing he was on to something that might allow him to spend time with the Griffindor.  
  
"You're the son of a Death Eater! Of course you must know Dark Arts!" said Harry agitatedly. I want to spend time with you! Please don't say no! I'd beg on my knees if I could!  
  
Draco chuckled.  
  
"Good point, I must admit," he said. "But what do I get?" Besides having all I want by my side?  
  
Harry froze.  
  
"I... I don't know. What do you want, Draco?" he said.  
  
You, the voice in the Slytherin's head whispered fondly.  
  
"I'll think about it," Draco said. "I agree to your proposition. I don't know what I want in exchange yet, but when I do, you have to agree to give it to me without hesitation. That seems like a fair deal, no?"  
  
Harry bit his lip and looked away from the Slytherin's outstretched hand.  
  
"Okay," answered Harry shyly. Bad idea! Bad idea! Bad idea! You can't do this, you hypocrite bastard! And what are you going to do? You'll end up loosing him if he finds out you think of him the way you do! Just friends? You'll be dieing for it to be more and you won't have it! Walk away! Stick to the letters and leave it to that!  
  
He placed his hand in his and watched as Draco pulled out his wand with his available hand. He recited an incantation and let go of Harry's hand.  
  
"What was that for?" the green-eyed boy asked, watching his rival walk away.  
  
"A spell," he said over his shoulder. "So you don't break the deal and I don't. Meet me tomorrow at midnight in the room where the Moonlight Deaths are."  
  
"Okay. I'll be there!" Harry said in a loud voice, walking away.  
  
"I know you will," finished Draco, smirking as he turned around a corner and walked away, ignoring his father's angry voice echoing in his head, repeating to him that what he was doing was all just a big mistake. A beautiful black-haired and green-eyed mistake.  
  
Oh, I gave Voldemort such a great plan! In fact, it's so great, I should write to J.K.R. and sell my idea to her. Lol.  
  
Please review! I'll be forever grateful! 


	15. Chapter 15

Wow, I'm so happy summer is finally here! Have a nice summer everyone!  
  
Chapter 15: First Secret Meeting  
  
"There's a reunion for the Quidditch team tryouts at nine thirty, Harry," Ron stated over breakfast the next morning.  
  
The Boy Who Lived nodded without saying a word and did not look up from his pancake-filled plate. He proceeded in letting his maple syrup make designs on them, ignoring Ron who kept looking to his left, where Hermione was sitting, and back to him, on his right. It was palpable that the redhead wanted to say something to bring back harmony in the trio but the first didn't want to say anything to the other and the second was certainly not going to make the first move.  
  
Everyone that was out of bed at this time on Saturday morning sitting at the Griffindor table had noticed that something was quite wrong between Hermione and Harry but, clearly, no one wanted to get involved. There was obviously no point in doing so, anyways.  
  
"How did you hurt your hand?" Ron asked his best friend, eyeing his bandaged limb.  
  
"A cut. I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Well Ron, I'll see you after your practice," Hermione said, louder than Harry's voice, getting up from her seat and grabbing a few books that had stayed stuck between her plate and a jug of water. "I'll be at the library. I want to research something about youth potions."  
  
"Sure, see you later," Ron replied, watching her walk away before turning towards Harry, suddenly taking an implicated tone as he said, "so, tell me what's going on."  
  
"Nothing is going on," the Griffindor countered, still watching his maple syrup progress on his pancake.  
  
Ron chuckled and pulled out his wand, pointing it at the syrup in his friend's plate. The word 'liar' formed with the sugary substance. Harry looked up, a surprised look on his face.  
  
"How can I act normal with her? You heard what she said yesterday!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah, I understand that, but you know she means no harm. She only wants your best and she thinks you're getting yourself in trouble again," Ron said, his elbow on the table and head leaning in his hand. "But I'm not talking about that, I think there's something else."  
  
Harry, who had just returned to his plate and was erasing the word by spreading his syrup with his fork, looked back at him, staring straight into his eyes.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, a dead serious look in his eyes.  
  
"I don't know... I'd like you to tell me," Ron continued. "Its like... like you're growing up and leaving everything behind."  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry said.  
  
Ron sighed.  
  
"Its true, when you think of it, you have a lot of responsibility in your future," he said, almost to himself. "The Dark Lord, the Ministry who's probably going to take you aside, this whole war... and imagine, you're maybe going to want to get married and have kids and have some time to yourself... not gonna be easy with the Dark Lord around."  
  
"Ron, this is a pointless conversation that I don't want to have," Harry snapped.  
  
"Okay, okay, just don't get mad after me, please," he responded. "I know you're not going to start talking with Hermione over-night, I kind of understand that you want your space and personal life but at least think of what she said. She might have gone over the top but there is a little bit of truth in all of it."  
  
Harry didn't answer anything to that, knowing that he might say something stupid and regret it. He couldn't stop feeling over-protective of his relation with Draco, so happy that there was something happening and so afraid of losing it with one stupid mistake.  
  
He shivered.  
  
So many things could go wrong, when he thought of it. Draco could change his mind, Ron or Hermione would discover that he's with him and learning Dark Arts or, even worst, he could do something terribly evident that would expose the true feelings he had towards the blond Slytherin. Draco would turn away, mock him, he would lose everything.  
  
He caught himself looking over at the Slytherin table, looking for the owner of his dreams. He was talking with Pansy Parkinson, and she was laughing. A strange feeling took hold of him. It felt freezing yet incredibly hot, going to his head at inconceivable speed.  
  
Harry Potter, could it actually be possible that you are jealous, old boy?  
  
Draco looked up, straight into his eyes. He seemed surprised for a moment and Harry was almost certain that a tinge of red had appeared on his cheeks. Then, for half a second, the young man smiled before returning to his plate.  
  
Ginny joined Ron and Harry on the Quidditch field at nine o'clock. There, they found many Griffindor's ready to show what they were capable of doing on a broom to enter the team. The tryouts went fairly well.  
  
Victoria Frobisher, a fourth grader that had tried out for Griffindor keeper the previous year but that had been rejected because she had said that Charms Club would rank higher in her priorities than Quidditch proved for the second time that she flew very well and became a chaser, along with Ginny and Seamus.  
  
Andrew Kirke changed his mind and decided to stay Griffindor beater along with another new recruit, Neville Longbottom, to whom Harry and Ron decided to give a chance, seeing that he whacked the bludgers rather far and well aimed. His flying, on the other hand, was going to need a lot and a lot of improvements.  
  
Harry returned in his dorm room after the tryouts, letting Ron go alone to the library to find Hermione. He laid on his bed, arms crossed behind his head as he stared at the ceiling, wondering if he could simply get a time- turner to get to midnight, when he would see Draco in the classroom filled with flowers again.  
  
An idea unexpectedly came to his mind and he slid to the end of his bed. He opened his school trunk and immediately removed the heap of clothes that was pilled up on top of his things. He then found his old school books, a few random objects, more clothes (muggle, this time) under which he finally met the bottom of his trunk. He rummaged through everything once more and finally found the book in which he had hid all the letters Draco has sent him. The wizard corresponding set was placed next to it, tied with a ribbon in the same way he had received it with the same inkpot and the same quill he had used to write with. A smile on his face, he pulled it out, holding it up in such a way that it seemed it was made of some sort of terribly fragile material that he did not want to break.  
  
Hoping Draco would be in his dormitory, the other part of the correspondence scroll miraculously under his nose at that precise moment, he wrote a few words. He waited a few minutes but nothing appeared. Disappointed, he placed the paper and inkbottle on his bedside table, returning to his daydreaming.  
  
He fell asleep quite easily and woke up just in time to go down for super in the Great Hall. He had missed lunchtime with Quidditch practice and so was starving for a good meal.  
  
Harry sat at the Griffindor table, caught between Ron and Lavender, picking quietly at his mashed potatoes. He tried to keep his eyes lowered and focused innocently on his plate just like he had done for breakfast, but they insisted upon darting up to look in Draco's direction, sometimes catching a reciprocal glance from time to time.  
  
Harry ate in silence, nodding to what Ron was saying but not really paying attention to what he was explaining. In fact, he wasn't paying attention to anything and it was no wonder that later that night he couldn't even say what he had eaten except for the mashed potatoes that remembered shaping into different things, a vague attempt to amuse himself and distract his mind from the picture of the Slytherin.  
  
He couldn't remember being as eager for something as he felt that night. He too a walk alone around the lake after eating his desert then had a cup of tea at Hagrid's to pass more time. They talked about the weather, the Griffindor Quidditch team and school classes, but nothing to do with the Dark Lord, the Ministry or the war.  
  
He returned to his common room by ten o'clock and decided to finish homework due for professor Flitwick's class. It was only when his homework was done, by ten to eleven, that he noticed that Ron and Hermione were not there. Ginny told him that she had seem them leave the Great Hall together but that they hadn't returned to the Griffindor tower since.  
  
Draco must be right, he thought. They are ending up together. And they didn't even tell me anything. What a bunch of fags they can be.  
  
They came back just as Harry was ready to leave. Ron saluted him with a silly smile on his face as he climbed the stairs up to their dormitory but Hermione barged in front of him, hands in fists by her sides. Harry sighed and made a step back, giving her a 'Do you really think you'll be able to stop me like that' look.  
  
"I'm not letting you go wander around again," she said.  
  
Harry smiled wickedly.  
  
"Flashback of our first year, don't you find? You're taking Neville's place, though," he said, sighing again. "Good times, good times. Now step aside."  
  
"You really think everyone is inferior to you, don't you?" she spat. "I don't know who you've been hanging around but it's rubbing off you. I'm not letting you leave the common room after curfew."  
  
"You really think you know best, don't you Hermione?" Harry argued. "It's a very annoying flaw of yours, you should get rid of it. Nothing and no one is rubbing off me. You know very well that we,ve all been wandering outside the common room after curfew for, let us see, the last five years of our lives."  
  
"I'm going to tell professor Dumbledore about this," she growled.  
  
"Go ahead, I dare you," he hissed. You're not going to stop me from seeing Draco.  
  
"Fine then, I will," she said, turning on her heels and walking through the passage behind the Fat Lady's portrait.  
  
Harry ignored her and left the common room, walking directly towards the classroom of the Moonlight Deaths. It did not take too long for him to find it.  
  
He opened the door of the classroom and walked in slowly, letting his eyes get used to the lack of light. Nothing had changed since the previous night, except perhaps the broken terracotta pots, which had disappeared. The flowers were in bloom again, as beautiful and arrogant as they could be in the dim moonlight.  
  
Draco was already there, sitting on a desk covered by a white drape near an opened window. He just looked so surreal at that moment, like an angel that fell out of a dream. He had not changed and was still in his uniform, but his tie was loose around his neck and the collar of his white blouse was undone. He was dangling his feet under the desk not quite perceptibly, his eyes closed and his ivory skin glowing in the moonlight. He looked like a porcelain doll. Harry thought he only needed wings.  
  
Nah, he doesn't. He already looks like an angel to me.  
  
"Oh, hello," the Slytherin said, not moving from his spot but just tilting his head sideways. "You're early."  
  
"You too."  
  
"I, my dear rival, am relaxing, and it is only a coincidence that I have chosen to do so in the location where we were supposed to meet," stated Draco, a smirk on his face as he watched the Griffindor, hiding the all the happiness he felt seeing that he had come early and that he was going to get an hour more in his company.  
  
"Of course, of course," Harry mumbled, walking closer to him. "But you know, maybe we should go some place else. We could get sick with those flowers here."  
  
"Nonsense. Are you afraid of them? It we stay far enough, the pollen won't spread in the air and we'll be fine."  
  
"What are we going to do?" asked Harry, subtly eyeing the young man's body.  
  
"Well our deal says that I have to teach you Dark Arts," Draco answered, jumping from the table. "So I'll start with that most probably long and complicated task. What do you want to know?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened in surprise.  
  
"I don't know... spells, I suppose," he answered. "Spells I can use in a duel."  
  
You're so naïve, it gets to the point where its cute, thought the Slytherin.  
  
He rolled his eyes, repeating his last word and adding that if he wanted spells, he just had to rejoin the duelling club that he had so quickly abandoned in second year.  
  
"It doesn't work that way, Dark Arts aren't meant to be considered like that," he started explaining. "It expands much farther than what you think and starts where everything does. In your mind."  
  
"How is that?"  
  
"Take a seat," Draco ordered, presenting him a chair and taking one himself, placing a table between them. "This is going to be long, so might as well make it as enjoyable as possible." I just need you to make it enjoyable, but I can't say that.  
  
He pulled out two butterbeers from the left pocket of his uniform, giving one to Harry with a smile. The Griffindor thanked him before leaning in his chair, watching him.  
  
Draco got very enthusiastic as he explained to Harry that the Dark Arts started in your own mind and that it spread, affecting your magical abilities to a great extent. He talked about souls rotting away because of the amount of dark magic, spells, enchantments, potions and all sorts of things that captivated Harry, simply because each word was pronounced by the Slytherin.  
  
"I'm going to show you how to properly curse someone. I've realized over the years that you throw a curse exactly like you throw a regular spell."  
  
"You're not supposed to?" asked the green-eyed boy.  
  
"Of course not! There's much more power to a curse when strong will combined with proper movement of a wand are combined," answered Draco. "Now, throw a curse to that chair. Make it... I don't know... make it grow fur!" Harry rose from his place and backed away, looking at the chair Draco had pointed to. He said the curse as he waived his wand, flicking it towards the object. It instantly covered in brown fur.  
  
"No, no, no, no, no!" repeated Draco, covering the side of his head with his hands as if he had just seen a calamity of nature happen right before his eyes. "Look at me do it to this chair."  
  
Harry watched the blond Prefect pull out his wand, mutter the same words but holding his wand differently, flicking it much more proficiently. His chair grew brown fur too, but his was much more furry than the Griffindor's.  
  
Draco ordered him to try again after taking away the pelt of the other chair with a movement of his wand. The same thing happened and the length of the fur was still much smaller than Draco's.  
  
With a sigh of exasperation, Draco grabbed Harry by the waist from behind him, holding the hand that held his wand.  
  
He was so close, so close... Harry could feel the warmth of his body. He wanted to hold him, to never let go. He was suffocating with aspiration!  
  
Your face, your voice... your lips, your thoughts... your eyes, your laugh... your skin, your smell... you, Draco...  
  
He found himself passing his tongue on his dry lips, watching the blond boy's mouth speak words he could no longer hear. A voice in his head was screaming at him to stop, to back away, or rather push away, before he lost everything he had... while another pleaded and begged for him to go on, to touch him, kiss him, hold him and let him know how he felt.  
  
But he couldn't stop. He was so close... he leaned forward but Draco stopped speaking at that moment, turning in his direction and ultimately making him freeze on the spot. The Griffindor saw a flash of anxiety on his icy eyes as they both stood there, mere millimetres apart. Their proximity was unbearable at this point and just as Draco leaned towards him...  
  
The doorknob was heard and the door opened, professor Le Fey appearing in the entrance in a burgundy nightgown and silk slippers. The two jumped away from each other before she even noticed they were there. Once she did, she stared at them for a few seconds.  
  
"Are you the little rascals who blew up my pots?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.  
  
There was something in the look on her face that made them think that she was not at all preoccupied or bothered by anything. In fact, complete apathy nearly glowed all around her. The way she held herself so casually, and the clothes she was wearing... it was like she was used to all of this so much that nothing surprised her anymore. Well, it is to say, after two hundred and fifty or so years, there was surely something to be indifferent to.  
  
The boys didn't answer anything, still too surprised to have been caught.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes, I suppose," she continued, making a few steps inside the classroom. "Just by curiosity, why are you here?"  
  
"We... we had unfinished business to settle, but it is done, so we'll just be on our way out," Draco stated, trying to get to the door.  
  
Professor Le Fey had by then arrived to the first crate of flowers and bent down to inhale their perfume as she passed her hands on the leaves, checking if they were alright.  
  
"No, it is not what I mean," she said, still looking at her flowers. "I mean why come in the middle of the night in a classroom filled with noxious flowers."  
  
"We knew we wouldn't be disturbed," chipped Harry, watching her meddle with the plants, blue pollen now floating around her, making her sneeze.  
  
"Well then you must be disappointed, I showed up," she whispered. "Now you too should run along, the pollen is dangerous. But don't think I'll just forget about all of this, you will be punished. I'll talk to you after class one day to tell you what your detention will be."  
  
"How many house points are you taking off?" Draco asked, fearing just like Harry that people would ask how points disappeared over night.  
  
"Bah... I'm not taking points off. I know I should, you broke my pots, you broke school rules on two, maybe even more occasions for coming here, fooled around toxic flowers and most importantly, broke my pots! Now just run off, you fools, before I change my mind."  
  
Harry and Draco were not asked twice and left the room without further notice.  
  
Ask him what that was about! a voice in the Griffindor's head echoed. Ask him if he loves you! Ask him if its true!  
  
"How can she stay near those plants?" Harry asked, ignoring the questions that he was dyeing to ask, as they walked away. "Do you think she drank a potion to immune herself against the poison?"  
  
"She doesn't need it, dumb-dumb," Draco answered, not looking in his direction at all. "She's a vampire, remember? She can't die. Not with those flowers, anyways. And I heard a rumour that she was trying to make a poison, expressly to kill herself by destroying her immortality. It must be hard to see loved ones get old and die while she lives on generation after generation."  
  
"And where are we going now?" Harry persisted, jogging behind the fast- walking Slytherin.  
  
"I'm going to go get a couple hours sleep," Draco retorted, still not looking at him. "We don't have anywhere to practice. We can't go in empty classrooms because Filch or Mrs Norris could easily pass by. That class was the only option. The dungeons are watched by Snape and a lot of students go there to fool around. The Astronomy Tower is always taken by lovers as well."  
  
"Well then where are we going to see each other?" the Griffindor said, slightly panicky at the thought of having to be away from Draco. Did I do the wrong thing? Did I scare him off? Oh, please Lord, tell me its not that!  
  
"I don't know!" Draco said, bothered, again, not looking at him.  
  
"I think I know a place!"  
  
"And where would that be?" Draco asked, stopping dead in his tracks, suddenly interested.  
  
"A room on the seventh floor called the Room of Requirements," Harry answered instantly. "I used it a lot last year with other students."  
  
"I don't know about it."  
  
"It only appears when we're looking for it, in a way," he continued quickly. "I'll show it to you."  
  
"Fine, we'll go there next time we meet," Draco said, still walking away.  
  
"Tomorrow?"  
  
"No," Draco answered, ignoring that that simple word nearly gave the Griffindor a heart attack thinking that he did not want to see him anymore. "Tomorrow is Sunday."  
  
"Monday, then," Harry proposed at once.  
  
"Yes," the Slytherin approved. "I'll see you on Monday, at... let's say ten o'clock. On the seventh floor?"  
  
"In front of the moving tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy."  
  
"Perfect," Draco said, smiling. "See you there then! And don't make me wait!"  
  
Harry smiled gleefully.  
  
Nothing was lost.  
  
You can now check for news about Dear Rival on my bilingual LiveJournal located at: . Cookies (as in pieces of upcoming chapters) and info will be sent there in advance, if you're interested.  
  
Your critics, suggestions, ideas, opinions and thoughts are more important than you think. Please take the time to review... 


	16. Chapter 16

Ok, my dear, dear, dear readers! I've received a few reviews saying that the pureblood/wandless magic explanation was not so clear and so I've made it even better! A justification coming from a professional of the matter will be given in this chapter. Be very attentive to what he says and tell me if you still find it unclear!

Particular thanks to Brenna8, Althydia and Miss Lesley for having ingenuously displayed their opinions on my little theory.

Chapter 16:

Draco was sitting in an armchair in front of the fireplace of his common room, gently tapping his fingers on the wooden armrest as he waited for sunrise. Professor Snape would come in the Slytherin Dungeons at that moment to break the security curse in the hearth, letting them return to their home for the day by the now rather popular Hogwarts Floo Powder Network.

It is true he had hesitated between staying at school, closer to Harry, and returning to the Malfoy Manor but he was so willing to forget about the green-eyed boy for a few moments by focussing all his attention on what was happening with his father that he easily chose mind over heart. He wanted to forget the question that he couldn't answer: What had happened between him and Harry the previous night?

His eyes darted left and right as he pursed his lips. He could not remember any situation that had troubled him so. He had flirted with the wonderful idea that Harry was attracted to him but had left it to that. In his mind, it could not be possible. His own feelings could not be possible! They had been enemies for so long, had wanted each others deaths... and then the Griffindor turned out to be unexpectedly... different than what he had imagined.

He brought a hand to his forehead.

He couldn't quite see his emotions as natural yet, which was understandable... but the previous night... everything had been rushed. Nothing had been understood. Every other emotion had been neglected. Only one had remained, so happy to have finally outrun intelligence and fear.

Desire.

Pure and fiery, just waiting to be consumed. As unblemished such a feeling could be. So incredibly right, it was starting to feel dangerous. Malfoys unquestionably did not have desires other than power and money. When it arrived to that, he was sure of it. It had to stop. What had not even arrived to the starting point had to be brought to an end.

But his lips had been so close... he wondered how they would have tasted like...

The young man's train of thoughts crashed right as the potions master entered the common room, quickly casting a few spells in the fire.

Snape proceeded in giving Floo powder to the students that had risen from their seats and had lined up in front of him. Draco slowly rose from his seat and passed the line, making sure to be the first to leave in a swirl of bright green light under his professor's prying gaze.

He had to keep his mind off Harry. It was getting unhealthy.

When he opened his eyes, he was in one of the living rooms of his manor, one with monochrome walls and wooden furniture. Harry had never seen this one.

A house elf stormed in, bowing deeply as he scampered forward, shakily keeping his huge eyes on the wizard's polished black shoes.

"Where is my father?" asked the young master, slackly dusting his cloak with the back of his hand.

"In a meeting, in the conference room," the servant muttered, keeping his face as low as it was.

Draco rolled his eyes, pulling off his cloak and throwing it on one of the chairs.

"Which one?"

"The... the one without windows or fireside," whispered the little being in panic. "With dark walls... and circular table..."

"You are new," scowled Draco, eyeing the elf uninterestedly. "Do know that each room has a respective name that is used to design it. Go figure them out and know that if you had made this mistake in front of my father, he would have made you remember them in a much more brutal way. The conference room you are trying to mention is known as the Blue Seminar. Now just get out of my sight, filthy little scrounger."

The House Elf was not asked twice and simply jogged away, slightly surprised that he had not been punished or beaten. The young Malfoy seemed to be affected by something similar to a good mood.

Draco waited a few minutes before leaving the living room, heading for the Blue Seminar, a very, very imposing room in the middle of the second underground floor. He did not pass anyone on his way there, his mother probably with her friends on a balcony somewhere or in her room, doing nothing. His mother remained a mystery and simple memory of his already distant childhood, anyways. She was not a maternal kind of mother. She kept the image of love a blurred portrait, and so did not help Draco's emotions towards Harry sound normal.

As he passed the gates leading underground levels, he started perceiving a low rumble. When he arrived at the entry to the Blue Seminar, it was clear to him that the rumble was created by voices. A crowd of voices.

His eyebrows cocked up as he walked to the wall of the hallway and leaned on it, placing his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Whatever they were discussing was bound to be very serious.

It didn't take long before something happened. Walden Macnair, former executioner for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, stormed out of the room, a terribly angry look on his face. The noise coming from inside the room hit Draco like a bludger to the head at the same moment Macnair noticed him. The Death Eater that had been an envoy to the Giants lost his angry face and made two steps towards the young man, his hand outstretched. Draco shook it without saying a word, staring into the wizard's eyes.

"I just heard about your implication. I can't believe you don't know what you're getting into," Macnair said, smirking and shaking his head. "Stepping into the real world, eh? Anyways, you can go in. The conference is over."

Draco nodded and walked inside the Blue Seminar, not understanding what the wizard had just told him.

The Blue Seminar was a circular room. The walls were covered by navy drapes and the steps were leading downwards, towards the centre stage where there was an incredibly large wooden table covered by a glass plate. We could see silver and gold snakes engraved into the table, slithering onto the surface. The steps provided seats for a rather large crowd, which was now dispersed through the room in small groups. Many were yelling, some had even pulled out their wands. Ghosts were talking to some Death Eaters, wizards are trying to explain to each other what they had just discussed and Draco was unable to give a name to many of the creatures he saw in that room. He reached the stage and his attention focused on an incredibly large throne seemingly made of black wood, gigantic thorns rising like horns into the air. Sitting there was the Dark Lord, one of his hands holding his head, the other leaning limply on the side of the throne. His black robes were spread out around him, his cape passing over the armrest, his blood red eyes staring somewhat angrily at some of his Death Eaters, arguing not too far away. Lucius had risen from his seat and his fist slammed onto the table, yelling something to Avery. Bellatrix joined in, soon followed by her brother-in-law. Draco was about to turn around and walk away when Voldemort's voice echoed through the room like thunder ripping through the veil of a quiet sky.

"SILENCE!" he roared. "BEFORE I TURN THIS MEETING INTO A BLOODBATH!"

The Dark Lord was on his feet, wand in hand, and everyone present was turned in his direction. A long aggravated hiss escaped Voldemort's lips as he sat back down. Draco had not moved but felt completely out of place. He had butterflies in his stomach and felt like running out of the room but his feet were glued to the ground. A chilling sensation was running through his veins.

He hated having these feelings. Vulnerability and terror, combined together, forming the most Machiavellian emotion he could describe. And he remembered the first time he had felt it... so long ago... when the Ministry had raided the Mansion in search of proof of his father's connection to the Dark Lord. A wave of rage flooded his mind as he regained his senses. No. It was not time to remember.

"I WILL NOT TOLERATE FEAR! I WILL NOT TOLERATE HESITATION NOR WEAKNESS NOR INSUBORDINATION!" the master shouted. "WE WILL SUCCEED! DESTROY EVERY LAST OPPONENT! I HAVE THE POWER, IS THERE ANY ONE TO TELL ME THE OPPOSITE?"

Silence answered him.

Voldemort roared in anger and sat back down.

"You will all do as I said," he hissed, eyeing each and everyone present in the room. "The Giants will stay in place, the Dementors will join us for this. We wait for the first of November to come before showing how present we can be and then... and then we get rid of them all right after New Year's Eve."

A whisper of agreement flowed through the room.

The Dark Lord made a movement of his right hand and people immediately started to leave the room. Before he knew it, a firm hand grabbed Draco's forearm harshly, forcing him to exit. It was only once he had passed the front doors of the Seminar that he saw that it was his father that was pulling him away.

"What did you hear?" he inquired, still holding his son's forearm quite tightly.

"Nothing, father," Draco said, not surprised by his question. "Macnair indicated me that the convention was over just as he was leaving."

Lucius's grip disappeared.

"Good enough," he muttered. "You are not to know about the Dark Lord's plans, you know it. It would endanger you, especially at school, around all those... those... hum. Just run off, I'll meet you in the library after everyone is gone."

Draco acquiesced of a nod and walked away.

Back in the Blue Seminar, Lucius returned to his master.

"He did not hear anything," he hushed.

Voldemort sighed, tapping his fingers on the surface of the table, looking towards the door through which Draco had disappeared.

"He would make a perfect Death Eater if he knew what was going on... but the bond he is forming with the Potter boy would deteriorate if he did," he hissed. "And I do not want that."

He paused a moment before turning towards Lucius.

"I fear something I did not expect is happening with him... but I don't know what it is... I could feel it running through his veins... whatever it is it can no longer be removed. We cannot back out... But still... I'm insecure about what I have caused..."

Lucius stared questioningly at his powerful master as he whispered on, wondering, still staring at the spot where Draco had stood.

Harry shivered under his invisibility cloak and so tried to cover himself a bit better. It was Monday night and his stomach was telling him to join the rest of the students in the Great Hall but he just wouldn't. Firstly, to avoid Hermione and Dumbledore, and secondly, to evade Draco's distant company.

Since Saturday night, he had replayed in his head hundreds of times the whole scenario that had taken place in the Moonlight Death's classroom, each time trying to find more information depicted by the Slytherin's actions and facial expressions.

And since he had departed, Harry had been afraid. Afraid of his own nerve to get so close to ruining the bond of friendship he had formed with the bond boy, scared that one day he could no longer hold everything back, terrified by his need to be with his rival, petrified by what could of happened if professor Le Fey had not entered.

He was not ready. His mind was too clouded by his fears to go beyond and imagine the reality of Draco feeling the same. He was not ready.

He had spent his entire Sunday hiding under his invisibility cloak, walking around, avoiding everyone, finishing his homework for the week, knowing that if he saw Draco every night, he would not have time to do them then.

The sun was disappearing behind the mountains in the horizon and the breeze kept on blowing softly through his cloak. He was hungry. He did not want to eat or move. Is scar had tickled for hours the previous day but was now fine. Voldemort seemed thoughtful, he imagined.

"Harry?"

The Griffindor jumped off the base of the statue he had been sitting on and looked towards the entrance of the terrace he was located on.

Ron was standing there, repeating his name.

Harry pulled back the hood of his cloak without a word. A wave of glee passed on Ron's face as he walked forwards, a smile on his face.

"I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you this," he said, showing him the plate filled with victuals he was holding.

Harry smiled and took off the rest of his cloak, sitting on the floor in front of his best friend, thanking him and quickly scoffing down what was on the plate.

"How did you find me?" he asked between two mouthfuls of mashed potatoes.

"My keen sense of intuition," answered the redhead, laughing. "Actually, I passed professor Le Fey near the Great Hall and she told me to look around the sixth floor of the West Wing."

Harry frowned for a moment but remembered. He had nearly bumped into her. She undoubtedly had sensed him pass, and probably knew, thanks to Dumbledore, that he was in possession of an invisibility cloak. That sneaky woman.

He listened to Ron ramble on about everything that had happened during the weekend, mentioning an upcoming Quidditch practice, telling a few jokes and anecdotes to do with their fellow roommates before simply babbling on about how his mother wanted to hear from the both of them... The green-eyed young man beamed. He missed being with Ron. He missed his old life, void of strange feelings and lovely rivals.

"Oh... and, I know I shouldn't really tell you this but, Saturday, Hermione, when seeing that you were gone way passed three in the morning, she-"

"Went to talk to Dumbledore," interrupted Harry, sighing calmly. "I know. I saw her on the Marauders Map when I got back."

"Oh, Harry, don't hold it against her! Please!" pleaded Ron, suddenly cheerless and rather serious.

The Boy-Who-Lived's eyes narrowed.

"She and Dumbledore are just tying me down and throwing me inside a cage invisible to anyone's eyes. I hate it. I don't want this."

Ron didn't respond, staring at his friends.

"Harry, I'm worried about you. I don't want to do something to stop you from doing what you want, I'm not constantly asking you what happened to you in the summer or nosing into your private business but know that I care and think you should... think about what you're doing."

Harry kept on eating and Ron kept on talking after clearing his voice.

"Hermione will kill me if she knows that I told you what I'm about to say. She doesn't want you knowing, she doesn't want you to get hurt or to do something foolish," he whispered.

"What?"

"... Hermione... Hermione told me that when she arrived in Dumbledore's office, professor Le Fey was there, along with Remus, Mad-Eye Moody, Snape and Trelawney. She said there was no doubt they were talking about something secret that had to do with the Order. She said something emitting a green light was on Dumbledore's desk, under a cloth. She says it was a prophecy, that Trelawney predicted mere moments ago in front of Dumbledore. It happened around two in the morning, and Dumbledore was asking the people in the room what they were doing around that time. Herm' said the answers were relatively simple until it came to Le Fey. She said that she had just entered her personal greenhouse at that time. Now guess what was in her greenhouse, Harry."

The Griffindor's face blanked out as he stared wide-eyed at his friend, definitely unable to answer.

"Toxic flowers, can you imagine? Who would keep such things? Anyway, Hermione found that peculiar because Le Fey wouldn't go into details. So... then what happened? Oh, yes, the prophecy. The keeper of the Hall of Prophecy at the Ministry was coming to collect it in the morning. And then Remus wanted to go see you to talk to you about the Prophecy and 'ask for an explanation' but Dumbledore wouldn't let him. That's all I know."

Harry was now in a deep state of shock. According to what he knew, the Prophecy had been made at the exact moment he and Draco had nearly kissed. What if... it had to do with him? What if it had to do with Draco, or the Dark Lord?

"Does Hermione know what the prophecy is?" Harry asked. "Did it involve..."

"You? I don't know."

"You look troubled... what is it?" the redhead asked, sitting more comfortably in front of Harry.

Harry did not answer, personally uncertain about what was happening. But he did not have the time to debate. He wanted to leave and wait for Draco under his invisibility cloak, on the seventh floor, where they were supposed to meet; and so that is what he did. He saluted Ron and disappeared.

He waited at the desired location, still thinking about the new prophecy and deciding it was best not to tell the Slytherin. He stayed there, thinking about his feelings, about what Ron had said, and of course, Draco, who came walking by around quarter to ten, wearing wizard robes under a traveling cloak. The green-eyed boy took off his cloak and looked at him curiously.

"Hi, Harry," the Slytherin said, smiling weakly and undoubtedly avoiding eye contact. "Listen... I went to my house yesterday and realized that these lessons I'm giving you are useless when you don't understand what purebloods, like my father and I, believe in."

"What do you mean? You want to break out deal?" questioned the Griffindor, ready to object.

"Stop jumping to conclusions, let me finish," the exasperated young man sighed. "I want to make you meet someone tonight. Someone who can answer all your questions about purebloods and wandless magic. I want to take you to him. We could seriously get into trouble for leaving Hogwarts grounds. I could actually be expelled for a false reason such as 'kidnapping and maybe taking you to the Dark Lord', but I think it's worth it. I need you to understand what no book in the library says."

"O-okay," Harry shakily answered. "But how do we get out of here?"

"You're the one who knows all the passages out of here," Draco said, smiling. "We need to get to Hogsmeade, where we'll use a portkey."

The Griffindor did what his rival wanted. He leaded him to the passageway leading to Hogsmeade, looking out for Filch and teachers on the Marauders Map from time to time. The whole walk in the dark tunnel going from the school to Honeydukes was made in silence.

It was Draco who deactivated the security spells in the shop and who led Harry through the empty street, avoiding The Three Broomsticks from where music and loud voices were being heard. They slipped into an alleyway and found, lying on the ground, a paper bag in which an unknown object was being held.

They waited a few minutes until midnight, when the paper bag would be used as a portkey, and then disappeared together.

When Harry opened his eyes, he was in a very well lit, dusty shop. Shelves surrounded them. They had arrived on a red carpet in front of a working desk where pieces of wood, books, papers and jars of unknown materials were laying. Behind the desk was a small man with tiny black eyes, a very feathery black moustache that covered his lips and short black hair. He had been in the process of writing a letter, his quill still being in his hand.

"Harry, this is mister Gregorovitch, a very well known Romanian wand maker," exclaimed Draco. "All students from Drumstang have their wands made from him. Believe it or not, we are currently in Prague. Harmekiel Lane, to be a little more precise. This place is like Diagon Alley. Now go ahead. Ask your questions."

Harry stayed silent. In a few seconds, Draco had dragged him into another country, in a wand-maker's shop, to ask questions about purebloods. The Slytherin would never stop amazing him.

"Go on!" whispered his rival, pushing him a bit forward, towards the little man that had not moved since they had appeared.

"Hum... hello," Harry said uncomfortably. "I... I was wondering if you could explain to me what Voldemort believes in. What... what the differences are between purebloods and muggle-borns."

The little man's facial expression did not change. He did not even blink. When he started talking, Harry did not recognize the thick accent the little wizard had but simply listened.

In the end, beneath all the metaphors and comparisons, pauses and interminable phrases, was a clear enlightenment.

Humans were divided in two categories, just like Lucius had said. Wizards and Muggles. At the beginning of time, all wizards were purebloods, and purebloods of the wizarding world have a certain type of 'blood', of aura, of soul. It consists of normal human genes with a touch of... 'magic'. It flows in them, a bit like blood does, but do not be mistaken. It is not part of blood. The expression pureblood is erroneous when it comes to saying magic is in the blood of a wizard. Magic is rather compared to cells floating through the nervous system, or a part of someone's soul or aura.

In the beginning of time, magic was used wandlessly. When a certain part of the brain was active, let us say, analyzing emotions such as fear or anger, or simply concentrating very hard, the 'magic cells' reacted and cast the first spell that passed through the wizard's mind, the first one he chose, and it affected whichever objective he desired.

These cells of magic are not as present, or rather, completely inactive in a lot of humans. And these humans are referred to as muggles. It is why a wand was required for those who wanted to do magic.

In a wand is found a material containing a very strong quantity of active 'magic cells'. When in a certain mood or state of mind, the wave of 'magic' flows through the chain of inactive magic cells, reaches the brain before flowing back through the body and ultimately through the wand held in the wizard's hand. It is then thanks to the active cells in the wand that the spell may be cast.

All wizards, including purebloods quickly found that using a wand was much easier than doing wandless magic because they did not have to be in a certain state of mind or had to concentrate as much. Everyone in the wizarding world started using wands and wandless magic nearly disappeared.

When muggles and wizards interbreed, the number of active cells lowers, slowly but surely. It is why, in the present day, magic could not be done without a wand, without the amount of active cells contained in it.

One day there won't even be a link of magic between the brain and wand, the inactive cells disappearing like the active ones, and so magic will then be impossible to use. Today, purebloods could, with a lot of effort, do wandless magic, maybe as strong as it could be when magic was first depicted in history.

With what Gregorovitch explained, Harry was able to give an answer to the rest of his questions.

Tom Riddle, or rather Voldemort, had had the Kiss of Hypocrisy done on himself to get rid of the inactive magic cells transmitted from his father's side. He remembered learning that his mother came from a very strong pureblood family. Without inactive cells in his body, he was able to do wandless magic and who knows what else. But a part of his identity had been taken away because magic flows through a wizard's soul, and he had been grafted an unblemished pureblood soul. It probably changed a lot of things in him.

And he, Harry, was able to do wandless magic without even knowing it! Setting the snake free at the zoo, ending up on the roof of the school, his hair growing back in a night... he could do all of this because he was, as the prophecy said, the Dark Lord's equal. But there was one thing he did not have... and that was pureblood. He was a half-blood. Pureblood from the paternal side, muggle blood from his maternal side.

Another thing troubled him. A wand was needed for magic, and he had the Dark Lord's twin wand. What was that supposed to mean now? Was there a connection to something else he ignored?

Anyhow, now he understood why Draco had despised him at the beginning of the year. He was contradicting the Slytherin's beliefs. A half-blood could not be better than a pureblood, it was inconceivable for him.

Thanking the wand-maker, Draco grabbed Harry's arm and left the store, starting to walk down the dark street while holding on to the Griffindor. He was smiling. The Boy-Who-Lived knew the truth.

But something a little less important had to be worked out before they did anything else. They had to get back at Hogwarts, now that they had completely destroyed the meaning of curfew.

Please tell me what you think of my theory. I personally think I have greatly improved it but please tell me if you have ideas, if certain things should be a little more clarified and so on. I love constructive criticism!


	17. Chapter 17

Big thanks to LaraBlack, HermioneGreen, Draco-n-Harry-Lover, Constance Malfoy, Nikki, FreakyAngel, Deathangelofdarkness, Kiva, Yuki Kurai, Mrs. Tom Riddle, SaFire flamE, Brenna8, Contess Zephyr, Mac Black, Hersheyhugs, Ally, Lloneke, Arbil, Nanami, StolenDreamer, Drakfyre, Shimmering dragon, Sanguis Magia, GoddessMoonLady, Jaz7, Ravensblack, Owlpostagain, CtrlAltDelete, Htbmny, Orange Horizons & last but not least, Luna Llena. You people rock my world and I'm sorry for the delay, again (hits myself)

Ah, new and improved chapters have replaced certain older chapters. Chapters 1 and 2 have been particularly well enhanced, along with chapter 5.

Enjoy this chapter!

-------------------------------------------------

**Chapter 17: New Views & Forgotten Thoughts**

Their return to Hogwarts was long and exhausting. The Slytherin knew that the Ministry monitored the use of Portkeys around Hogwarts and that they would be trapped reappearing in Hogsmeade seeing that any Portkey landed in the Office of Transport Regulations of that same village where identification was required in order to make sure no Death Eaters or other villains approached Hogwarts. Portkeys could not be traced from their leaving point but from their landing point, and it is why the two young men had been able to escape with one, going all the way to Prague without arising any suspicions.

But of course, Draco had made a couple of arrangements to make sure absolutely nothing could go wrong. Sunday, when waiting for his father in the library, he had realized that he needed Harry to understand what all those wizards in the Blue Seminar believed in. All his efforts would remain fruitless if the Griffindor wasn't aware of the reasons that started it all. Most of them remained shrouded in mystery, but The-Boy-Who-Lived was sure to discover them one day or another.

Anyhow. The Slytherin Prefect explained to his father what he was planning on doing and asked for his help and advice. The Death Eater, knowing perfectly well that what Draco wanted to do could only tighten the bond of blind faith Potter had formed with his son, helped him, under the Dark Lord's ruthless supervision.

Gregorovitch was alerted and was enlightened by the current situation. A man was to take Polyjuice potion to take his appearance and take place in the Hog's Head, keeping a low profile. If the Portkey was unexpectedly traced, it would be connected to Gregorovitch, who was returning to his home after an important meeting with a wizard in the Hog's Head. The Polyjuice potion would stop its effect at midnight, right as the Portkey left, and so the whole scheme would go unnoticed. And it did. The Ministry was fooled.

But going back into Britain and then into Hogwarts was going to be a lot more difficult. The most direct way was, of course, apparating, but they couldn't do that by fear of being caught. And of course, Harry knew nothing about it and something could of easily gone wrong. The second option was the Floo Powder Network but it was being severely watched since June, when Voldemort's comeback was truly noticed.

The train track joining King's Cross and Hogsmeade was not the only magical train track of the Wizarding World. The Maeve Line, named after Queen Maeve, a Medieval witch from Ireland who trained young witches and wizards there before the establishment of wizarding schools such as Hogwarts, was founded in the early nineteenth century. It linked Prague, Paris, London and Berlin. Connecting train lines were added later on, linking Rome, Madrid, Vienna and even more cities together without Muggles knowing anything about it.

The Messenger was the steam engine Draco and Harry boarded. It took them two hours and a half to reach their destination, London. From there, they took another train to reach Hogsmeade. Normally, it would of taken six hours or more to get there, just like the London-Prague trip, but certain trains were equipped to do the same voyage in less than one third of the normal time required.

They escaped the identification test at Hogsmeade station by staying hidden under Harry's invisibility cloak and were back on school grounds by dawn. There was no need to take the passage way through Honeydukes seeing that the school's main entrance opened after sunrise. It is at that gate that Harry and Draco parted.

Draco had stood there, silent, watching the Griffindor's preoccupied face until he had felt it was time for him to go. He did not say goodbye or mention another meeting, because he did not want to sound too keen of seeing him again, even though he felt that being with him was more important than anything else in his life at that moment.

Harry waited for the Slytherin to disappear in the passageway leading to his house's common room before smiling lightly, contented to have spent all this time with him. Even though he was unbelievably tiered, he headed straight to the library, knowing that there were things to worry about and that he was not to think about his own happiness for a very long while. His happiness could not exist because it lived in Draco and that he and Draco would never be together.

The thought crushed him, but he was getting used to it.

He waited for madam Pince's arrival in front of the library. When she appeared, she opened the door, eyeing Harry nosily, bringing her cup of coffee to her lips several times before letting him through.

He did not pay much attention to her, going straight to the book-filled shelves, directly to the isle marked with the letter M.

M for so many things. M for muggle, magic, mudblood, Ministry, Marvolo...

It was time for him to work and forget about his nonexistent personal life. He focused on what he had heard and thoughts rushed to Harry's head, coming in and out of his mind, shocking him, confusing him.

He had vaguely reflected about the whole thing during his journey back home but he had pushed it away, knowing that he was going to end up to some unavoidable horrifying conclusion that he did not want to consider.

Everything Draco had said could absolutely not be true. It was impossible. He did not want to believe it because if he did, he would also have to realize something else, something even more distressing that would haunt him forever.

He felt like crying.

After all he had been through, he had never flinched, but according to what the Slytherin had said, if he chose to believe it, all that had led him to this point would crumble, leaving him in fault, exposed to everything he had heard.

His hand trembled as it reached for the thick copy of A History of Magic.

But it couldn't be true, they were only lies.

It was impossible.

No.

He could not sympathize with his parents' murderer. He could not accept that they died believing the wrong reason, that their death was needed and that he should have died all along. He would not believe that all his fights and struggles were pointless and that it was maybe for the better that he died. That his parents died. That Sirius and Cedric died.

Uncalled tears blurred his vision and rolled down his pale cheeks. He grabbed the book by both hands and pressed it against his chest as he slid to the ground.

Nothing had made him cry since Sirius' death. Not even the fact that Voldemort was back in power, that the Death Eaters had escaped, that Bellatrix, his godfather's killer was on the loose, that people were dying, that he was in love with a boy, a boy who supports everything he hates and is against, that Hermione and Ron had abandoned him or that no one understood him.

But this was the last straw. His parent's could not have died rightfully.

And then everything went back to where it started: Draco. Him, this Death Eater's son who so strongly believes that Voldemort is right, this boy who is the only one Harry's heart beats for, this boy who screws everything up so magnificently in the Griffindor's head.

He felt as if all the emotions he suffered from were stuck in a lump in his throat. He wanted to just scream them all out, to bluntly tell Draco that every time he sees him he craves touching and kissing him, to give an interview to the Daily Prophet telling everyone about the truth with purebloods and muggle-borns, to order the Ministry and Dumbledore to leave him alone, to be friends with Hermione again, to move in with the Weasleys and never hear from Voldemort, Death Eaters and Prophecies again, staying away from Draco as much as he could knowing that he would never see him as he saw the Slytherin.

Because it killed him.

Because he knew that his dreams would never come true; that at that moment, Draco wouldn't appear in front of him to hold him, console him and tell him everything would be all right. He knew Sirius would never come back, that Voldemort wouldn't be killed, that the Ministry would not leave him alone, that no one would listen to him when he tried to make them all understand what he had been told about purebloods and wandless magic.

He was sick of it. He was sick of his life. He wanted it to end.

He pushed the book away from him and brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself. The ambient air was temperate, but he felt so cold, like if a snowstorm was taking place in his throat and lungs. His scar started to prickle again.

The tears wouldn't stop, different images calling more and more... his mother, the Weasleys, Sirius... Draco, Draco, Draco...

His sobs slashed through the interminable silence of the library like lightning on a calm night.

He did not care anymore. He did not care about what everyone thought about him, about Dumbledore's measures to contain him, about Hermione's anger, about his own feelings... People were affected by consequences that could be stopped, people were dying, people were afraid... he had to do something.

It was his only use: to do something when others didn't.

The tears flowed without him doing anything to summon them and he did not wipe them away, letting them trail down his damp cheeks, roll down his chin and onto his sleeves. As an unclear amount of time passed, they diminished in number and finally disappeared, leaving Harry in a sad state.

He sighed, happy to have gotten that weight off his heart. Crying had felt so good.

He rose shakily, grabbed the copy of the History of Magic and headed towards the section reserved to the scientific use of magic, an aisle where only a very small number of seventh years spent time towards April and May, trying to obtain further knowledge of what they by then master quite perfectly.

He spent much time with his head tilted sideways as he read the title of each book but only found two, hidden on the last shelve near the wall, that he found attention-grabbing. The first was entitled 'derivation of magic and its current downfall' and the second was 'Experimentations resting on Magical Intermission'.

With one look at his watch, he realized that he was already an hour late for his History class, which was going to last three hours, until lunch time. He advised madam Pince that he was taking the two books out of the library for the next month before rushing out into the labyrinth-like hallways of the school, hurrying to his history class even though he knew professor Binns wouldn't have even realized that he was absent until then.

Many students turned their heads in the door's direction when he entered but the only one he truly noticed was Draco, who was sitting near the windows in the back of the class. The Slytherin had looked up, stared into his eyes as if saying 'good, you're okay'.

Harry gave him the faintest hint of a smile before looking away, remembering what he had decided earlier this morning: don't think about him. Forget about you wanting to be with him. He proceeded in trying to see where he would sit. Three desks were not being used. The first was in the second row, near the door and next to Hermione, who had looked at him curiously when he had appeared in the entrance. She had by then turned away, bringing back her full attention to what Binns was saying. Ron was sitting on her other side and he had grinned widely, discretely waving in his direction as welcome.

The second desk was in the third row, by the window, two seats in front of Draco, and the last one was between an uptight Ravenclaw girl and Lavender, in the fifth and last row.

Harry sighed, opting for the seat two desks in front of his dear rival. Draco smirked, curious, as he walked in his direction.

The Griffindor had forgotten his school bag and history books back in his common room, not having returned there since the previous night, and so was stuck doing nothing besides flipping through the two books he had taken from the library. He was lucky he wasn't attending a potions class instead of a dull history lesson. If he had, he would have lost at least forty points to his house, more for not having his books, and would not have had free time to relax and calm down after what had happened in the library.

Besides that, nothing happened that day because he had two free periods in the afternoon and used them to start his reading, alone in his dorm room. Even though he had not been hungry at all, he had gone down to the Great Hall for the evening meal, avoiding Hermione and Ron again. He did not become aware of Draco staring at him during the whole meal from the other side of the hall, but when he returned to his dorm room, he found a letter on his covers, his name written down with a lettering he knew very well by then. He tore the covering and pulled out the message.

_Dear rival,_

_You seemed preoccupied all day. What is it? Talk to me with the corresponding scroll. You better not have thrown it away, you fool!_

_Draco_

Harry couldn't help but notice that the Slytherin had not used his last name like he usually did. Maybe their relation had grown to a point where using only their first name was risky, yet permitted. He folded the parchment and placed it back in its envelope, opening one of his old school books where the rest of their letters were neatly pilled up and adding it to the stack.

That done, he opened his trunk and started searching for his part of the correspondence scroll. He knew where it was: Right at the bottom, beneath his muggle clothes, in the corner. His hand started rummaging through the contents, trying to make its way to the spot. Strangely, he did not touch the common texture of parchment before hitting the wooden bottom of the trunk.

Annoyed, Harry pulled out all his clothes and looked at the place where it was supposed to be; but there were only a few loose muggle coins there. No scroll.

Harry became livid. What had he done with it? Had he placed it with his other sheets of parchment by inadvertence? Was there the possibility of it being in his school bag?

He ran to his school bag and emptied it on his bed, tossing his books to the right and ignoring his broken quills, but the precious scroll was not there.

A strange thought crept up his mind. What if... someone had found it? What if... Ron or Hermione had it and was waiting for him to claim it in order for them to make a big deal out of it? His eyes drifted to Ron's trunk and he could not avoid thinking that he never actually locked it. Maybe... maybe it was inside? Maybe he could just take a peek.

Harry shook his head, offended by his own thoughts. His best friend would never do such a thing, and anyways, he couldn't possibly know who had the other part of the scroll... unless he had spoken to Draco through it already. Hermione could surely have the guts to push him to do such a thing.

Harry rose from his kneeling position in front of his empty school bag, sat on his bed next to the contents spread out on the sheets and finally remembered that he had left the scroll on his bedside table after trying to reach him a while ago. He moved closer to his bedside table and saw that the scroll was in deed there, trampled under his copy of Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them.

The Griffindor felt his cheeks redden in shame. How could he have thought such things about his friends? Well, he and Hermione weren't exactly in friendly terms and so were not really friends, but still... how could he think such things after all they had been through together?

-Draco didn't concern you this way before. That's why.-

Harry reddened even more. Hermione and Ron couldn't know about him liking Draco that way... they would never understand... they would judge him and do who knows what else...

"Why am I so afraid of them discovering? They are my friends... friends understand, support, help..." he whispered to himself. "But... oh for Merlin's sake, why the hell am I considering telling them this? I'm talking about Malfoy... Malfoy the ferret."

That last recollection made him smile.

No, his friends couldn't help and didn't need to know. He could keep his secret. For all he knew, he could keep it forever, because it would never work out between them... no?

He grabbed the flattened scroll and the right ink bottle Draco had given him with it, ready to write.

-Hi, Draco. Are you there?-

The Slytherin had been sitting on the carpet in front of the fireplace in his own dorm when he read the reply on his part of the correspondence scroll. The heat made him take off his school robes and so he was sitting there in a simple school blouse and trousers, his shoes disregarded near one of the sofas.

-Of course I'm here,- he wrote, pushing back the stray lock of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

-How was your day?- scribbled the Griffindor.

-Tiring. I didn't get to sleep much when we got back. How about you? What's going on?-

Harry smiled. Draco did care. He maybe even considered him a friend.

-It's just... so confusing. I don't know what to do. So many things have been going on in my head, I'm trying to sort out priorities, you know? I'm seeing me with my problems and then everyone else have things so much more important...-

-Harry, shut up for a moment and stop thinking like a Griffindor,- Draco wrote down. –Everyone's put in your head the idea that all their problems are because of you, because you're the Boy-Who-Lived and all of that. If you have your own problems, they go in priority to everything else because it's your fucking life and you can't just live putting everyone else on top of you. Don't think of the outside world and everything going on with Voldemort. It doesn't affect you when you're in Hogwarts, so ignore it a little and forget you're Harry Fucking Potter. It annoys me.-

-You should of told me that six years ago,- answered Harry. –Maybe it would have been useful then.-

-You're an idiot.-

-No, I'm not. And anyways, you'd be in a rather uncomfortable position if I took care of my own problems right now,- Harry squiggled on the parchment, thinking of his rather immoral thoughts about the beautiful blond boy. –And I don't have the guts of doing it anyways.-

-No more Griffindor courage, eh?- Draco wrote back, inching away from the fireplace.

-No,- Harry simply noted, not even trying to reply to his invitation to another affront, too saddened by the thought of it.

-Hum...- marked Draco, suddenly interested by the fact that he had touched a sensitive spot. –What's the problem?-

-None of your business.-

-You just said it involved me being in an uncomfortable position about it so I'm obviously involved,- the Slytherin replied quickly.

-... shut up.-

-ha.-

-It wouldn't be funny if you knew what I was talking about.-

-Fine, keep your secrets, you annoying boggart.-

Harry couldn't help start laughing loudly.

-If you were faced to a boggart, what would it transform in?- he decided to ask.

-I don't know,- wrote Draco.

During his third year, when professor Lupin had made them face one in his Defense Against the Dark Arts class, the boggart had personified himself and his family dying. When he said family, he meant purebloods, Death Eaters, the Dark Lord's followers, not just his parents. Maybe his fear was still the same after three years.

-Maybe death,- he responded. –You?-

-Life,- the Griffindor wrote straightforwardly. –At first, I was afraid of being afraid, but I realized it was living as 'Harry Fucking Potter' (like you say) that truly scared me.-

-Interesting,- retorted the Slytherin. –You see, we are truly like black and white.-

-If you say so,- Harry scrawled, feeling a little gloomy. –Ron is coming. I have to go. Send me Mischief to tell me when we meet again. Bye.-

Harry put the correspondence paper away in his bedside table drawer, along with the ink bottle and the quill. He sat there in silence, the fading sunlight coming through the window, elongating every shadow in the same direction. He knew Ron was not coming into the room any time soon, he had just wanted to see if he would be able to stop writing to him even though he could have continued for quite a while. He smiled with satisfaction. He had made a small step towards getting over Draco. Great. He had heard so many people say that the first step was the hardest but this move did not have any effect on him whatsoever. I mean, Draco did not have an effect on him, doing this was just part of making sure they stayed rivals. Yes, just friendly rivals who ask how you are doing because they actually really care.

Harry's green eyes widened in excitement. Draco cared! He truly was a wonderful person underneath it all. Nothing passed unnoticed. He had seen right away that something was wrong with him. He had noticed. The Griffindor could almost feel his heart swelling with joy but it deflated as quickly as it came.

Then leaving him like that without waiting for a reply wasn't nice at all. Maybe Draco was furious. Maybe he didn't want to talk to him anymore and would never send Mischief with another date, euh, meeting.

Harry literally dived to the drawer and pulled out the parchment.

-He's gone, false alarm,- he wrote immediately. –So...-

On his side, Draco almost exploded in laughter. It was almost crystal clear to him that Harry was up to something. There had barely been fifteen seconds between the green-eyed boy's two messages. He decided to continue writing up on his bed, in the mazzanine, finding that the fireplace was now too hot for him. He grabbed a school book from the mantelpiece and was laying on his bed before he knew it. Looking back at his correspondence scroll, he saw that the Griffindor was already panicking, thinking he had left.

-Are you still there? Draco, are you gone? Are you mad?-

'He freaks out rather quickly,' the Slytherin thought. 'Why not let him panic a little more...'

Draco waited, watching more little phrases appear on the parchment's face. Just when he thought Harry was going to leave to mope away from the letter, Draco wrote something.

-Ah, I thought you left me,- he inscribed.

-No, no,- Harry marked in his turn. –False alarm. Hum... when do we see each other again?-

Draco thought for a second that the Griffindor saw meeting him as important as he himself thought of seeing him. What a stupid thought, the Slytherin could only dream of it. He could never pass his hands in his hair, slowly take off his ridiculous glasses and bend down to kiss him forever. The Griffindor would freak out just like he had just freaked out because he wasn't replying quickly enough. But still... he was asking for another little get-together.

Right as he was going to ask him if the next day was alright, a one-eyed barn owl flew in, landing at the end of his bed. A letter with the Hogwarts crest was tied to its leg. Draco pushed aside his previous occupation and took the letter, watching the owl fly away immediately.

He ripped the envelope open and pulled out the message.

_Mister Malfoy,_

_Your detention will take place at nine o'clock on Thursday night. Please be at the main entrance at that time._

_Sincerely,_

Professor Le Fey 

Draco cursed. He had been hoping the teacher would have forgotten their late-night meeting. He looked down at the overlooked scroll and to what Harry had written, he too had received his detention letter. His mood lightened a little when he thought that the detention would maybe be spent with Harry. That way, they could talk and spend a little time together without having to hide it as much as a secret meeting.

--------------

Harry and Draco kept on talking for a very long while. It was only when Neville and Seamus had entered, around ten o'clock, that the Griffindor had let the Slytherin stop the conversation because he was tiered and needed to take a shower before going to bed.

Harry had imagined for a second Draco taking a shower but had pushed the thought away just like he pushed away all those similar thoughts. The next day passed quickly, both boys giving each other little smiles and looks that normally would have lasted a few seconds less. In the blink of an eye, half of the week had gone by and both teenagers were actually looking forward to the next day where they would be forced to spend time together, in detention.

He was playing chess with Ginny on Wednesday night, vaguely listening to Ron and Hermione talking about something to do with their latest potions report.

Hum... potions... he felt he had forgotten something. Was his own report going to pass? He couldn't remember making anything suspicious... it was true, Parvati was not the best partner ever, expecially since she had wanted to be sorted with Lavender (as always) and had been stuck with him, who had enough trouble keeping up in the potion class' NEWT level.

No it wasn't that. Something else was wrong. Was there a homework he had forgotten about? He looked down and saw Ginny's Queen take his last pawn, putting him in checkmate. Hum. She definitely had inherited her brother's chess-playing talents.

"POTTER!" screeched the Potions Master in his familiar oily voice. "DOESN'T WEDNESDAY, EIGHT O'CLOCK RING A BELL?"

Harry turned around to see a fuming Snape glaring at him loathingly. The Griffindore paled considerably. Occlumency class. With his classes and late-night talks with Draco, he had completely forgotten.

Before he knew it, Snape had walked the distance that separated them, had grabbed his arm unsympathetically and had dragged him out of the common room. He pulled him to a passageway, forced him to walk at his frantic pace. Harry could not tell him to stop or ask any other question for that matter. He had never seen Snape so angry. It couldn't actually be the first time he had been stood up, could it? And anyhow, he was going to tell him that he was no longer taking the Occlumency lessons.

He recognized the path they were taking and deducted that they were going to the Headmaster's office. Harry rolled his eyes. This was definitely not what he needed at the moment. The two adults were going to make a scene out of his desire to quit the lessons. They couldn't actually force him to take them, could they? He was sure under aged wizards had constitutional rights just like muggles did.

They passed the Gargoyle, climbed the stairs and burst into the office, almost startling professor Dumbledore. Everything was going so fast, Harry couldn't keep track of the headmaster and the professor's exchange of words. Snape was yelling, Dumbledore was looking from him to the enraged teacher.

"Professor, I will no longer be taking Occlumency Lessons," Harry blurted out.

Snape's eyes narrowed to an incredible extent, just about making Harry think that he had closed his eyes.

"Oh so now you think you're better than all of us and can handle the Dark Lord's attacks?" he spat. "Well look where that brought that flea-ridden mutt of a godfather of yours!"

"SEVERUS!" yelled Dumbledore, giving him a rather oppressing glare.

Harry had pulled out his wand and was pointing it in Snape's direction, trembling in anger. Dumbledore told him not to do anything foolish and grabbed his wand, nodding his head.

"Harry, you cannot stop taking these classes," the old wizard said. "They are very important. You cannot simply stop-"

"Unless you prove me that you are actually capable of stopping powerful attacks," hissed the greasy-haired potions master.

Harry knew he could never stop Snape from entering him mind. He had not meditated since June and was in no state to impede an attack, especially from his potions master, who was obviously going to make the attack terribly powerful. But then... he would see his memories...

"No, I don't allow you to do that," he said defiantly, looking at the Headmaster for support.

But the Headmaster looked away.

"If you can't stop this attack, you'll have to endure my classes," Snape spat, positioning himself for an attack.

"I SAID NO!" bellowed the teenager.

"LEGILIMENS!"

Harry felt as if a boulder had hit his mind, trying to get in.

"NOOOO!" he screamed, grabbing his head with both hands.

He felt his mental defenses being assailed again and could tell they were going to give up soon. Images of Draco, their letters, his thoughts about the Slytherin, the scrolls and finally the Malfoy Manor, Lucius and the escape to Prague flooded his mind. Snape was going to see everything. _They were all going to know._

The Potions Master probed his mind again, this time crushing all his mental shields.

_He was going to see, he was going to know._

Severus Snape's face was deformed by a fanatical smile that contortioned itself in curiosity and iniquity as he visualized Harry's deepest most secret thoughts.

_He knows about Draco!_

Harry's hair was on ends. He had never been so frenzied about anything, but this, this had passed the limit. Anger was literally running through his veins. He opened his eyes and glared at Snape.

"I warned you," he simply said.

Closing his eyes again, he focused all his attention on the link that Snape had formed. In one blast, he used all his magical abilities to enter Snape's mind. The entrance was hard but once he got through, he was faced to a library of memories. Thousands of books were opening and closing, adding bits and pieces of Harry's own memories inside his own.

"HARRY, DON'T!" he heard the headmaster yell.

But nothing could stop him now. He was fuming. That loathsome person knew about his most private thoughts. He knew about Draco and their summer together. He knew every single detail about the letters, he knew about the rescue. This was too much to take. Snape was going to pay.

Harry could see Snape standing in front of him, visualizing the memory in which he and Draco had nearly kissed. He paid no attention to Harry.

"OBLIVIATE!" yelled Harry.

Snape's eyes shot open and stared at the young man. He smiled in pure delight. Potter had tried to cast an illegal curse. He was going to be in deep, deep trouble. Severus then noticed that, curiously enough, Harry was not holding his wand. Dumbledore still had it in his hands. Something was wrong. Things had frozen. He couldn't think anymore. He entered his mind and saw that Harry had in deed crossed his mental protections. The boy was standing there, staring at him. Something was wrong, something was wrong.

Harry smiled.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Snape's library of thoughts caught fire, each book disappearing in a puff of flames and ashes, memory after memory being erased from his mind.

-------------------------------------------------

niark niark niark ... ok, next chapter will be up before Halloween, ok?

Review? Please?


	18. Chapter 18

looks away, ashamed

-------------------------------------------------

Chapter 18: 

It was eleven o'clock on Wednesday night. Instead of being in his bed after his first Occlumency lesson of the year, Harry was in the soundless Hospital Wing, at the feet of the bed in which was laying his cataleptic Potions Master. Snape's eyes were wide open and a look of confusion was plastered on usually stern features. He stayed motionless, with the exception of his left hand which kept twitching spasmodically while the other held on to the covers of the bed. He seemed stuck in a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

Harry's look was cold as he looked down at the pitiful wizard. He did not regret whatever had happened. Snape had deserved it. He had warned him, he had said he didn't want to do it, and yet that blasted idiot had persisted with his attacks. It was his fault, not Harry's. The teenager had just been protecting himself. A bit ruthlessly maybe, but nonetheless defending himself. The Griffindor kept on repeating that like a mantra, unquestionably trying to persuade himself that he was not wrong.

The student shivered unwillingly. That greasy hair-ball had known about his secrets. All of them. He had seen his feelings, heard his thoughts, felt his emotions and had, in a rather simple way, cruelly understood everything. Optimistically, when he woke up, he wouldn't remember anything at all. None of the secrets would come out. Harry would be so ashamed if he did and walked off babbling about what he knew. He wanted him to just... forget. For everything to have been wiped out. As the seconds and minutes passed, he prayed for him to have been really obliviated.

Madam Pomfrey was completely frantic as she juggled with potions around the patient's bed and tested numerous memory spells on Severus' temple. In all her years, she had never seen anything like this before. A wandless, under aged wizard had not only broken into this incredibly skilled Occlumens mind but had also destroyed nearly all memories that had been stocked there.

Entering his mind was not the most surprising thing because Occlumens could often use the link of their minds to see each other's thoughts, but destroying memories was a completely different matter. It was dangerous. It was virtually unfeasible. It was illegal.

Whether or not this young wizard was named Harry Potter, this had never been seen before. Thinking of him, Poppy Pomfrey glanced in his direction noticing that the young man had neither spoken nor shown any sentiment since the incident. Something imperative had happened to him, she could feel it. He seemed... vexed.

Turning back to her patient, she saw that his head was now shaking lightly. None of the spells she was throwing and none of the concoctions she was using were having a positive effect on him. She was dreading the worst: impossible recovery.

"Poppy!" screamed out the Headmaster, making his way as fast as possible towards Severus Snape's bed. "There is hope."

The young Griffindor turned his gaze towards the approaching wizard and saw that he was holding in front of him some sort of bowl that seemed very familiar to him. It took Harry a few seconds to realize that it was a Pensieve. Severus Snape's pensieve, to be exact.

"This is a miracle," madam Pomfrey sobbed, trotting towards Dumbledore who handed her the basin. "He might just have a chance now."

Harry watched indifferently as the nurse placed it on the bed's night table and rummaged through her pocket to try to find her wand.

"He was just about to give an Occlumency lesson and luckily, had already stored his fundamental memories in his pensieve," sighed Dumbledore. "Maybe this will give us something."

Harry could simply watch as both Pomfrey and the headmaster manipulated each stored memory with their wands, trying to see if they could simply put them back in his mind without causing more damage.

Harry, arms folded in front of him, observed the two elders positioned on either side of the patient's bed. Determination and anticipation seemed to emanate from them, making the young man feel out of place because his own feelings did not resemble theirs.

"I've never done this, maybe we should wait for the experts, Albus," mumbled Pomfrey after a few unsuccessful attempts to restore the memories back in their usual place.

Dumbledore soundlessly agreed, putting back the strain of memory back into the bowl. Both summoned chairs and sat down on either side of the bed, watching poor Severus Snape with pitiful eyes. Harry still did not move, eyes glinting from Pomfrey to Dumbledore before going back to Snape again.

The Griffindor felt a disagreeable satisfaction running through his mind. He could still feel the dissipating power the Potions Master had exerted on his mind and it only made him even more contented with what he had done. He had protected himself, his secrets, and most of all, Draco. But when he thought of it, what exactly had happened back in Dumbledore's office?

He remembered everything very clearly, the exact words he had used to signify that he was quitting the lessons... but then Dumbledore had acted strangely, had looked at him over his half-moon spectacles with a knowing, almost sad way. Had he known anything? Had he been expecting such a reaction coming from him?

The thought of the new prophecy came back to his mind. _It was made just when we nearly kissed._

Maybe he knew about his feelings already, simply by having heard the prediction. He might have told Snape himself to try to crack his mind for information.

The young wizard sighed frustratingly.

Thinking like that was so unlike him. He had no right to question those kind of things. Dumbledore was on his side, he had always been. Snape was just a bastard who wanted to annoy him. Yes. It could only be that.

Harry was just about to consider rethinking about the pureblood theory when urged knocks were heard on the Hospital Wing's doors.

"The emergency team has arrived!" Dumbledore exclaimed as many witches and wizards, all wearing Saint Mungo's lime green uniforms, walked in briskly.

The group gathered around the bed, excluding Harry, the nurse, even Dumbledore. Wands were gathered, instruments were taken from worn, leather travel cases, and a medical analysis was started.

"Pulse?"

"Stable."

"Power flow?"

"Stable in the body, erratic in the mind. Memory deterioration due to unwarranted mental impacts."

"Extraction of memory residues?"

"Go ahead, nothing can be retrieved from them. Anna, proceed with long-term memory inspection."

The questions and orders continued for quite a while, some raising eyebrows from either Pomfrey or Harry, who were both wondering what exactly they were doing.

Just as Harry was starting to get bored, the Healers stopped, having arrived to a decent conclusion.

"58 percent of the stocked memories have been destroyed, affecting the cerebral capabilities of this man. Basic long term memories might have been lost and memory implants would be needed if they were gone. His condition is stable but we cannot replace the memories from his pensieve back in his head until we are certain his long-term memories are secure. An emergency troop will arrive by the Floo Powder Network in the morning to bring him to Saint Mungo's where further measures will be taken. If all goes well, he will be back in less than two weeks time with the greatest part of his memories."

The Headmaster's sigh echoed in the ward.

"Thank you," he decided to say. "Thank you for your help."

The leader of the emergency team eyed Dumbledore insistently.

"Can you wait for me in my office, please?" Dumbledore said immediately. "I know you know the way to it. I will join you there in a moment."

The emergency team left as silently and as quickly as it had arrived and silence fell back between the three conscious people present in the room. Pomfrey coughed uncomfortably, aware that Dumbledore was staring at Harry in a very insistent way.

But Harry was off into his own world again, where his feelings, the current events and the pureblood theory were battling his mind, each trying to gain his full attention. He could feel a headache coming, and to help him with it, he was starting to ask himself what the leader of the emergency team was going to talk about with Dumbledore. His headmaster would surely not tell the truth and get him expelled, now would he?

Albus opened his mouth but waited a second, trying to find the right words to use. He did not have time to formulate his speech before two loud bangs were heard, signifying that the entrance to the Hospital Wing had been brutally opened and closed again. In less than a second, the white drapes that had been separating Snape's bed with the rest of the room were flung open and Draco Malfoy stormed in, bitterness taking hold of his tiered-seeming features. He was in pajamas, having only slipped on a green housecoat on top of them. He had not forgotten his wand and his prefect badge but the second was not yet pinned to the front of his attire. Harry couldn't help but notice that he was barefoot.

"News travel more rapidly than I thought," whispered the Headmaster, looking at the Slytherin.

"What happened?" enquired the blond young man, demanding an explanation in stead of asking one in a civilized manner.

The Headmaster threw a look in the nurse's direction, nodding, mutely telling her to elucidate the story.

"Severus was simply caught in a legillimens snag," croaked Pomfrey. "A mind-wipe unexplainably occurred. He will be sent to Saint Mungo's for a routine checkup in the morning."

Draco made a few steps towards the bed and looked at his Head of House. He furrowed his brow.

"Legillimens snag, my ass," he hissed. "He looks like a fucking vegetable. For your sake, you better have a better justification."

"Is that a threat, mister Malfoy?" exclaimed the elderly witch rising form her seat in indignation.

"It depends how you take it," continued Draco, his piercing eyes circling the room.

It is just then that he noticed Harry's presence and, under the shock, he was unable to stop a muffled sound from escaping his lips. What was he doing there? Did he have anything to do with Snape's condition? Had he done this?

The Slytherin took one good look at his rival's face and deducted that he did. He seemed too serious, and the way he stared back at him made him know that he was remotely involved in what had happened. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.

"Mister Malfoy, please calm down," sighed the tiered Headmaster, looking at both young wizards with a critical eye. "And let me remind you that threats are useless within these walls. And now for your explanation, to put it bluntly, professor Snape has been obliviated by none other than Harry, which explains his being here."

The young wizard's blue eyes eyed Snape and Harry a couple of times before finally returning to the Headmaster's face.

"Why are you telling him?" asked Harry, glaring at his rival, still trying to hide the fact that they were no longer enemies. He had a feeling that Dumbledore could see right through him.

"Because he has the right to know," Dumbledore said sharply. "A right that is unknown to you for the simple reason that it is none of your concern and will probably never be."

Harry preferred not to reply, noticing that the older wizard seemed to be rather irritated with him at the moment. It only flared the Griffindor's own anger, because now that he thought of it, why hadn't he done anything to protect him from Snape's attacks? Why hadn't he done anything at all?

Draco was still asking questions about what had happened when Harry decided that he wanted to clear things up once and for all.

"Excuse me but I want to talk to you in private, now," he snapped at Dumbledore.

The Headmaster nodded, indicating him the door. Harry passed Draco and the bed in which Snape was laying with an indomitable look in his eyes. Albus followed him closely and motioned him into a clear hallway where they could discuss without being bothered.

"Why didn't you stop Snape from doing that to me?" Harry asked at once, staring into the man's eyes. "And why didn't you stop me? You have absolutely no right to be mad at me and treat me this way! You wanted proof I could defend myself, well I gave you one! I want you people to leave me alone! I can't stand this anymore!"

"Harry," Dumbledore called out. "If it is what you want, I admit it, I have made mistakes. But you have become blind. You have come to think that I am against you. Can't you see the foolishness of your thoughts?"

"I've heard the word 'blind' being used by a friend before," Harry said. "A friend I trust and to whom I listen to, but the only problem is that the word was applied to you, not me."

"Harry, for Merlin's sake, listen to yourself!" sighed Dumbledore "Draco Malfoy is not your friend! He is a Death Eater's son, he has chosen to follow Voldemort, he cannot possibly be your friend!"

The Griffindor unconsciously tightened the grip on his wand, which was back in one of the pockets of his robes. He didn't want to listen to this. He didn't want the truth to hurt him more than it already was. He had enough on his mind. He had too much on his mind.

"I did not stop Snape because I wanted to see if you could defend yourself, I did not stop you because I did not see it coming and because I wanted to see what you were capable of. I was angry because I saw how you could let things get to you so easily and react in such a foolishly violent way," continued the Headmaster. "I do not know what Severus saw in your thoughts, I do not know what you are hiding but for Merlin's sake Harry... don't do anything irrational to yourself."

"Professor," whispered Harry, trying to control himself. "Please leave me alone. I do not want you to interfere with my life anymore. I want you all to leave me alone. If you can't do that, well I'll let you imagine what I can do about it."

He turned around and marched off.

Albus Dumbledore sighed sadly, shaking his head.

"I've seen someone else react this way before, long ago, long ago," he whispered. "I just hope you will not choose the path he has taken. Because there is no turning back in the trail Tom Riddle has formed."

--------------

Harry clenched and unclenched his hands several times, walking speedily down the hallway.

Things were going too fast, much too fast. He didn't think he had the energy to take care of everything at once. He needed time, a lot of time.

But no one was giving him any!

Couldn't just one thing go right? Just one thing out of the pile of difficulties that harassed him night and day and he would be relatively happy for a couple of days.

He stopped in his tracks and saw that he was in front of the Room of Requirements. He started pacing left and right, muttering under his breath that he needed a place where he would be safe, where everything would be alright, where no one could hassle him, where he did not have to be the Boy Who Lived.

But no door or archway appeared.

"Fuck, can't you just open?" he yelled, hitting the pan of wall where the entrance was supposed to appear.

Aggravated to an incredible extent, he let himself slouch to the ground and stared at the opposite wall. The tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy hung there, but the Room of Requirements stubbornly stayed hidden.

Calm down, - he told himself. – Just calm down. –

He inhaled deeply and blinked several times.

He wanted to be left alone. No one helped, anyways. Everything was deranged. The pressure was too powerful. He was just a boy. The Dark Lord was back in power and wanted his death, his friends had disappeared, he was in love, and after hearing the pureblood theory, he did not know on what side he belonged. The truth was so disappointing.

He closed his eyes, and mere moments passed by before an unbelievably pleasant feeling made him open them again. Surprise paralyzed him as he waited a few seconds, savoring the sensation he had never truly felt before. It was a hand passing in his hair, ever so softly.

The Griffindor could not help but look up to see none other than Draco kneeling in front of him in his green pajamas. He thought he was dreaming.

"Harry... are you okay?" Draco asked, staring straightly into his eyes.

His hand wandering through his hair was the only thing Harry was focusing on and so it is only when the Slytherin repeated him question that he answered that he felt exhausted.

"You should go to bed," he said quietly. "You need sleep."

Harry didn't answer, peacefully staring at the other boy who blushed, his hand no longer passing in his hair. Out of the blue, Harry thought loving him did not seem wrong at all. Actually, it never seemed wrong when he was in his company. Wanting to kiss him was not unthinkable; it was in fact quite tempting. Holding him seemed like the less abnormal thing to do. Confessing his love was basically unavoidable.

But then, the strangest thing happened; the indomitable Griffindor courage ran away and the thought of the rest of the world came back.

Harry chuckled in despair. What was he thinking? Draco did not love him. This love was not real, it was an illusion simply because he was the only one to feel so lost without the other. This could never go out in the open.

"Yes, I guess so," he said, smiling sadly. "I'll be off then."

Draco rose when his rival did and watched him walk away.

He headed back to the Hospital Wing without further notice and settled in an armchair at the feet of professor Snape's bed, leaning onto it.

Madam Pomfrey came along and eyed him critically.

"Shouldn't you be off to your dormitory, young man?" she asked gravely, placing a light towel on the professor's forehead.

Draco glared as an answer before placing his head back on his forearms.

--------------

The atmosphere in Hogwarts the next day was incredibly tense for everyone. The word that Severus Snape had been sent to Saint Mungo's because of the Boy Who Lived had already spread through the whole school. Rumors started breeding, each more absurd than the other, but it was only at the end of the day, when everyone had seen that the Potions class had indeed been canceled, that students started believing that something bad had happened.

Some said Harry Potter had lost his mind and attacked his hated potions master in a wave of fury. Others said the Dark Lord had taken possession of Harry's body to kill him and make it look like a suicide but that Snape had arrived to help him, being killed in the process. A few thought Harry Potter had simply decided to turn to the Dark Side, which was a terrifying thought for so many.

Draco Malfoy had also not been seen since the incident and so more rumors started spreading, saying he too had been involved, but he took his seat at his table in the Great Hall at the end of the day, after having missed all of his classes.

Harry had felt sick all day long but had refused to let others think he was hiding away in the Hospital Wing. And the thought of being where he had sent Snape mere hours before was enough to make himself believe that he felt very good and did not need to visit madam Pomfrey.

In was that day, with all the lies and rumors taking hold of the castle that he had been the most in need of his friends' company. He missed Ron and Hermione. He needed them, but things seemed so tangled between them that he did not dare to make the first steps towards reconciliation.

Hermione too seemed to miss his company and regret some of the things she had said, but she felt in power by having Ron more on her side than on Harry's. She wanted Harry to realize what was going on around him, to acknowledge the weight on his shoulders. If he actually was, he was hiding it quite well.

--------------

Detention came around more quickly than Draco expected. He had spent a lot of time by his potion master's side and had even been allowed to accompany him to Saint Mungo where he observed everyone's gestures, guarding him like a hawk. Sleep was barely considered an option and only came on its own, forcing him to close his eyelids to view strange dreams that overlapped each other in a disorganized fashion.

All concerned Harry one way or another, his subconscious forcing him to think of what he really wanted to see. In his dreams, the fact he was a Slytherin, a Death Eater's son, a Malfoy, did not stop him from being with Harry. In his dreams, Harry kissed him, held him, and even made love to him. Every time, he woke up happily ashamed and fell back into his depressive reality where none of that happened. He wanted to forget, not to feel what he felt, because it hurt. He felt like someone's hand was clenched around his heart, and that someone was none other than Harry.

He was rather surprised when Professor Le Fey came to fetch him in the Hospital Wing one night, reminding him that it was time for his detention. It was quite reluctantly that he followed the strange woman out of the room and through descending staircases.

He felt tiered but was too preoccupied to do anything about it. Remembering that Harry was supposed to join him that night made him feel inconsiderate in a cold, distant way. He had temporarily tried to forget about him and the thought of spending time with him again made his heart compress itself and insides freeze in excitement. But as he followed the peculiar woman down the stairs, he started wondering why they had not stopped by the Griffindor tower to get him.

"Isn't Harry Potter supposed to come too?" Draco shyly asked in a tone that tried to be authoritative, making the woman turn around, a strange, satisfied kind of smile tugging the corners of her mouth.

"His detention is already taking place," she simply answered.

"We aren't having it together?" continued the Slytherin, annoyed by the fact that this teacher was keeping things from him.

"Ah, I did not know you wanted to be together," she whispered artfully. "I guess I have been wrongly informed. I thought you two were sworn enemies of some sort."

"We are!" the blond blurted out, a tinge of red appearing on his cheeks. But the thoughts of his dreams contradicted him.

The vampire did not reply, faintly satisfied by what she had heard.

"And what am I going to have to do, professor?" Draco continued, walking slightly faster in order to be able to walk by her side and not behind her.

"You will see," she said in a sigh as they continued deeper and deeper in the school's underground levels.

Finally, they reached a very long and wide corridor in which reigned cold and humidity. The marble columns that supported the ceiling might have been white a long, long time ago. They were now covered in spiderwebs and moss, in a way that reminded Draco of his own house's dungeons, where he had once brought his rival.

Professor Le Fey took out a big black key affected by rust at certain places and used it to open an incredibly large entrance gate. The door shrilled on its hinges as she pushed it open to let them pass. She did not close it behind them in order to let a current of air invade the room that smelled strongly of old paper and pine tree.

Draco looked curiously around the spacious area he had never been aware of, his eyes watching the high, dusty, document-filled bookshelves that were divided in an uncountable number of groups who themselves had four sub-categories.

"What..."

"The school archives, mister Malfoy," she muttered, her words being carried off with the gust of air penetrating the room.

The walls were of stone, like all other walls in the underground levels of the school, and patches of green and brown moss and lichens were expanding with the help of moisture. The floor cracked under their feet as they walked forward.

"I didn't know this room existed," Draco mused, eyeing the grimy files that filled the shelves and loomed above them unsteadily.

The professor did not answer. She kept on walking towards the very well lit center of the room, where relentless sneezes could be heard, echoing through the towers of shelves.

The center of the archives was surrounded by immense pillars that formed a circle. On each pillar could be found a line of small golden plates on which years were written, indicating the dates of the files that could be found if you chose to march past that column and into the labyrinth of bookshelves.

Inside the area delimited by the pillars was an impressive circular table and cardboard boxes which were in the process of being filled or emptied with objects or files that interested the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. By the table's side was a boy, holding onto the table, face towards the ground where yellowed files had landed, creating a small cloud of dust.

The professor summoned her wand and waved it in the air with experience, making the filth disappear and the papers align on the table.

"As you see, Mister Potter has already started his detention," she muttered.

Harry sneezed again, looked up, saw them, and couldn't help but redden as he sneezed one last time. Draco smiled faintly. His rival looked so childishly adorable when he wanted to.

"Here is a list of things," Le Fey said loudly as she pulled out a long and thin parchment from her pocket. "Find them," she added, giving it to Draco and pushing him lightly towards the labyrinth of shelves.

The Slytherin muttered a few incomprehensible words, eyed Harry in a pleading way but turned around, deciding it was better this way. He marched off with the list and quickly disappeared from view, even though his footsteps could still be heard.

"Now you," the teacher said to Harry as she sat down at the table in front of the cardboard boxes. "Take a seat and grab a box."

He obeyed unenthusiastically, thinking that having to do something with his rival would have been much more appreciated. He hadn't seen Draco in such a long time, and he needed to make sure the Slytherin wasn't avoiding him because of what had happened with Snape. He didn't want to consider the thought that Draco was truly annoyed and disappointed because of what he had done. He wouldn't if he knew why Harry had been forced to use such drastic measures... it was to protect them, what they were together...

Harry took out the first object in the box he had chosen and looked at it carefully. It was a glass orb that made him think of all the ones he had seen last June, all those containing prophecies. And maybe, out there, was an orb containing a prophecy about him and Draco... I mean, the last one that had been created had in deed been created when they were about to kiss... maybe it predicted their happiness. Maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out fine.

Harry shook his head. Nothing ever turned out fine. The prophecy was most probably about Voldemort, about deaths and pain. And the orb he was holding was slightly different than the ones he had seen in the Ministry of Magic. It was not filled with smoke or light, it was just... black.

Harry shook it, unconsciously thinking of Privet Drive and the muggle sphere that stayed by the window in winter when he was small. When Dudley used to turn it over, artificial snow would fall on the little scenery inside of it. It was just a reflex for Harry to shake that unknown orb to see if something would happen.

But nothing did.

He lifted it towards the lighting and tried to see through it but still nothing happened. He was about to put it down when he noticed his teacher was watching him with a smile on her face. He reddened.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

She let out a little laugh and made a few steps in his direction.

"Point your wand at it," she said. "Nothing will happen without you doing that."

Curious, Harry took out his wand from his pocket and tried.

The blackness of the orb remained for a few more seconds then started dividing itself around the wand, exposing a red light that grew stronger and stronger. Harry bent down and looked at it closer. Through the redness, something was coming closer, swirling inside. He could see scales... and suddenly, claws and gnashing fangs. The glass shook and a scratch appeared where the thing had struck. Harry let go of it and it fell on the ground with a loud bang.

"What was that?" he yelled, wand pointing at the ball rolling away under the table.

Professor Le Fey's smile grew stronger.

"What do you think?" she asked, bending down to get the globe, which had returned to its normal state. "Try to guess, find an idea."

"I don't know... some sort of egg?" he guessed, watching her pass her hand in front of the scratch, making it disappear, leaving no evidence of what had occurred.

"No," she said. "Well, actually, it could be, but it is more complex, that is for sure. If it is in deed an egg, it could contain a Dark Arts plague, which, when hatched, would bring something close to an apocalypse."

Harry looked at her with incredulity. He was about to object but she stopped him.

"We don't know what this is," she hissed softly. "We can only guess."

"What do you mean?"

She placed the orb on the table and stood back, observing it.

"Not everything has been discovered in the Wizarding World," she started. "This globe was found around the seventeenth century, in Germany. We think a wizard of the renaissance created it, using muggle beliefs, dark magic and the strength of the light side. We don't know what it is made of or what is on the other side. The strongest theory says this is a gateway to somewhere too filled with magic to be concealed around muggles. The only problem is that it only seems to give whatever is inside a door, as you saw earlier. Seeing that they do not seem particularly friendly, we cannot let them come through yet."

"And the thing inside... it's not small, is it? Is that ball like an other dimension or something?" Harry asked.

"Good deduction, Mister Potter," Le Fey said happily. "It could be that, it could be that."

Harry paused, staring at the orb. What if he lived in such a place? No one being able to reach him without him wanting to, him living in peace, him living with Draco in a beautiful place where no one can reach them... it would be nice, it really would.

"How was it made?" Harry asked. "Where did you get it, professor?"

"A legacy, I could say," she mumbled. "But you're not here to learn about Dark Arts objects. Sit down and take out the objects one by one. You should recognize them and be able to name them. Say it out loud, the quill will mark it on the list."

A dusty quill levitated in front of a nearby parchment as she marched back to her own box.

Well, this was going to be a little less interesting than he had first thought.

The Griffindor plunged his hand in the carton and pulled out an old copy of '_The Non-Existent Line Between the Light and Dark Forces'_. Harry guessed the author was one of those anarchist writers Professor Binns had mentioned in one of his classes. He said the title out loud and the quill wrote it down adding numerous information as well. Harry looked at the parchment and saw it had written not only the title but the author, the edition and a few unknown symbols.

Ignoring his curiosity, he took another item out of the carton. This time, it was a muggle pen and the quill did not add anything next to the word 'pen'. After the pen came a locked diary, four Dark Arts manuals, a black muggle penny. The objects were as diversified as they could be, but all seemed to have an interesting past. He did not ask questions about them but his heart froze when he took a look at the next item.

"What... what is this?" Harry exclaimed, handing her a picture.

Le Fey looked up from her pile of shabby parchments and eyed the photograph. A smile formed on her lips.

"Why, this is the original Order! I would have thought you knew," she said, looking at the picture a bit more closely.

Blood started rushing to Harry's head. This woman was definitely full of surprises, she kept awakening his curiosity with her Dark Arts objects and comments but this was a little too much for him to process. He had stopped himself from asking a multitude of questions concerning the items he had to list, but this was... this was too much.

"I do. Mad-Eye Moody showed me one of his own," the Griffindor answered quickly. "But my question is not about that. I want to know how come you have it. Are you part of the new Order?"

"Mister Potter, I was part of the original one," she said disdainfully. "I told them all I wouldn't appear in it, but forced me into it. You see that empty space there? Yes. That's me. A bloody empty space. You see, I don't appear in pictures. Don't ask me why, it's just how it is."

Harry stared at the empty space next to Dumbledore. He looked closer at the spot but absolutely nothing could be seen, it was just a gap between the Headmaster and Moody. The teacher sighed sadly, she too looking at the picture.

"But... but I never saw you come to the meetings of the Order last summer," Harry said. "You never came, not even once..."

"I didn't say I was part of the new Order, dear boy," she hissed, staring at the picture.

Silence fell but not for long because a cough was heard behind them and Harry turned around to see Draco holding many files.

"Where do I put this?" he asked nonchalantly.

Le Fey waved in the other end of the table's direction, keeping her eyes on the photograph. Harry used this chance to smile at the blond boy, who responded by the same gesture. Draco mouthed the words 'How are you?' and Harry was happy to mime back 'I'm fine, and you?'

Professor Le Fey's head suddenly raised itself and she sniffed the air a couple of times, as if she was about to sneeze.

"Excuse me for a moment," she said. "Don't do anything you could regret while I am gone."

Professor Le Fey placed the picture on the table and swiftly started making her way towards the door that had stayed partly open since they had arrived. The two boys stared at each other in silence until the door was safely closed behind their teacher.

Harry chuckled softly.

"So, we're in the achieves. Whose file would you most want to check out?" he asked, eyeing the immense bookshelves as if they held all of life's questions and answers.

"It would definitely be yours," Draco answered mockingly. "It must take a whole shelve to itself."

"I wouldn't be surprised, but strangely enough, I'd want to see your file. It is probably awfully inciting."

"Inciting, hun?" hissed the Slytherin, smirking. "I'm sure you'd love to get in my head."

"No, just in your pants."

Draco accidentally dropped the files he was carrying, papers carpeting the floor at his feet. He stared at the writing, only seeing blurred blotches of ink.

"What?" he asked. "What did you say?"

"Look at the mess you made," Harry grumbled, bending down to pick up some papers.

"What did you say?" Draco repeated, feeling suddenly very cold.

Harry looked at him in silence, wondering what he meant.

"When?"

"Just now, just before. Say it again," Draco pleaded suddenly picturing thousands of scenarios.

Maybe it was true, Harry loved him back. They would get closer to each other in a few seconds and desperately kiss until something would make them separate, like Professor Le Fey coming back, for instance. The rest of the detention would be excruciatingly long for both of them and once it was over, they would find an empty classroom and say a few distressed words to each other. Then they would hold each other forever, they could take long walks hand in hand, he would let him touch him that way, they could forget about their differences, this was only passion after all. Nothing could hold it back, because it was love and it was true.

"I don't remember... something about your papers most probably not holding the information I'd want," Harry answered. "Hey, whose files are these?"

Draco's hope vanished once again. He felt stupid and foolish as he always did when such ideas took hold of his mind. He bent down, snatched a piece of parchment and tried to see if he could give his rival an answer.

A moving picture was displayed in the upper left corner, showing a young graduating wizard. The whole page was covered in blurred writing.

"That's a reading charm," Harry muttered. "You need a code to read what is written. Do you think all the files here are locked this way?"

"No... I saw a couple of them that were readable. Only specific witches and wizards' pasts are kept secret," Draco answered. "Help me get all these together."

They both gathered the papers without a word and pilled them up in no particular order because the blurred writing stopped them from placing them in order. Professor Le Fey would have to do that by herself, unless she took away the charm, which was improbable.

"How have you been?" Harry asked uneasily.

"I've been all right," answered the Slytherin. "How about you? I mean, with Snape and all... what happened?"

Harry reddened.

He saw me, thinking of kissing you,- he could of replied. -But some things are better left unsaid.-

"Well... I take occlumency classes with him," he started.

"Really? With Snape?" Draco exclaimed.

"Yeah... I've been doing it for a while, but things got out of control and, and it just happened."

Draco looked at him in silence. He knew his rival needed to hear it was all right, that everything would be okay, that he had reacted the right way and that it couldn't have been avoided, even though he didn't know anything about it. But Draco, as a Slytherin, as Snape's supporter, he couldn't. But he couldn't harass Harry about it either, because... because deep down, he didn't want to hurt him. He still wanted to be close to him.

"Don't do it again," he ended up saying, wondering if he was warning Harry that he would hurt him if he did, of that someone else would harm him.

"I... I won't..." Harry stuttered.

Draco smiled weakly. He felt dizzy and thought he shouldn't have started a conversation. Talking to his rival hurt him, just seeing him in person was a hard task. How he wished they could go back in time when their relationship was purely a correspondence of innocent letters. Now, there were thoughts and dreams and desires... some he was afraid would never go away.

But he felt the need to try. Staying away from Harry was the right thing to do...

And on his side, Harry was thinking the same thing, telling himself he needed to keep on trying to forget the Slytherin. Having a simple conversation was now a hard task because he had the impression he was risking everything... and he didn't want to loose the little piece of Draco that was with him.

Sighing, he turned away.

--------------

Sphinx Le Fey closed the archive's door as she exited the room, her hand lingering on the already warm metal knob of the entrance. Her red eyes flashed menacingly into the darkness of the deserted hall.

There was a smell lingering where she was standing. A smell she knew, an aroma that reminded her of cologne and burnt wood, a scent from the past. An odor that did not belong in the world she had entered at the beginning of the school year.

"Come out, I know you're there," she snarled.

A part of the shadows near one of the spider-web-covered columns quivered towards the light. It seemed to shift and morph as it approached the light.

Lucius Malfoy, dressed in black robes and wearing a traveling cloak, appeared, icy eyes staring straight at the vampire.

"Well, well, well," she hissed, a smirk inching its way on her face. "It's been a long time."

--------------

The Griffindor knew that everyone around him wanted to know what had happened with Snape. Almost all students were happy that they were having potions lessons without the greasy git traumatizing harmless pupils and taking off house points for nothing, but questions remained, making them wonder if it was truly safe to hang around the Boy Who Lived.

Time passed but Harry angrily realized that the feelings did not fade away like he thought they would. They stayed, tickling his mind every time something reminded him of Draco. They haunted his dreams and nightmares, making him wake up panting for air and crying for him to be there. He was like a drug Harry was addicted to.

Passing two weeks without him made him think that he was starting to get over him, but the need of having him around would never truly leave his mind. After those excruciatingly long weeks, the Griffindor thought that maybe he could reward himself from his efforts, and what was wrong with rewarding himself with Draco's presence? A day wouldn't do anything bad, just a day. And the first trip to Hogsmeade was arriving at the beginning of October. Everything would be great.

He waited for the day before the outing to confront him and ask if he wanted to go with him, and since this day was a Friday, he was forced to wait after classes to see him. He used the Marauders Map to know where he was after dinner in the Great Hall and pretended to bump into him on the fourth floor, when no one was around.

After a few clumsy words of greeting that called faint blushes to their cheeks, their eyes trying to avoid the others, Harry went straight to the point.

"Well... the first Hogsmeade trip is tomorrow and I'd like you to come with me," the Griffindor explained, knowing perfectly well his cheeks were turning redder with each word he added. "Because you see, we haven't been seeing each other a lot."

Draco, don't you dare agree, don't you dare let him know that you care! - Echoed the little voice in the Slytherin's head. - You were doing fine, two weeks have gone by without you seeing him, if you go on like this, you just might get over this problem. You are a Malfoy, Draco! A Malfoy! You can't forget it.-

"I know. I didn't have time to waste," he said harshly, hurt by his own words. "I've been busy with my studies."

"A-ah." Harry simply voiced hesitantly.

The Slytherin felt a pang of pity and indecision hit him right in the chest. Could he do this? Could he lie? This would have been easy before the letters and the feelings, but now... would he have the strength?

"I can't go to Hogsmeade with you," he whispered, every word staying stuck in his throat before being pronounced. "I have to spend some time with Professor Snape. He's coming back today."

Harry did not feel like answering, and even if he did, he still would not have found anything to say. Did Draco now hate him because of what had happened with Snape? Was he just trying to avoid him because he annoyed him?

Draco watched sadly as his rival walked away. He felt terrible. Every day without him had been harder than the previous one and he still tried to forget him. And it would work. Love was a feeling that was created to be manipulated and he could make it disappear. It was not time to weaken.

-------------------------------------------------

Agh. I'm getting so, so sick of this unresolved sexual tension. -- Give it two chapters, they'll be relatively together. manic laugh relatively. Muahahah.


	19. Chapter 19

I love all my reviewers, you rock my world! You keep me going when I'm writing...

Longest chapter up to date, I'm sure you'll enjoy it. I'm very depressed today, school started again, one more school year to go :( So I update to cheer myself up... and you too of course! Enjoy!

-------------------------------------------------

**Chapter 19: Simple Facts**

Severus felt like his skull was about to explode. He couldn't think straight, memories over lapping themselves, taking hold of his mind one after the other in a very disorganized manner. They passed by, giving him hints of what they contained but disappeared before he could focus on them to remember their full meaning and details. The memories confused him, not letting him grasp them, his mind unable of settling itself on only one. He felt empty, unable to think, yet filled because of the succession of incoherent thoughts that passed in his mind. He tried focusing on certain thoughts but they fled, making it impossible for him to remember what he was trying to remember. He felt something important was slipping by... Something he absolutely wanted to know was missing and even though he tried hard to concentrate and remember what had happened, nothing came. All he felt and saw were glimpses of memories from the past, things he already knew. Voldemort, his parents, Hogwarts, Sirius Black, James Potter, Dumbledore, darkness, potions, curses, pain... some memories were so vague he thought nothing serious could ever be retrieved from them again. But how had the details faded? How come he couldn't remember certain crucial things? Yes, things were missing but he felt they would come back... or would they? He couldn't really say. He felt they were gone, had left, were in hiding somewhere in his mind. Maybe they would come back, but maybe they wouldn't. But what had happened? What was going on? What was he desperately trying to remember? And what about young Potter? There were unclear memories about him, something saying the young wizard had something to do with all of this. What had he found out about him? It was something strong, something powerful, something that shouldn't be, a weakness, an indestructible weakness... what was it? He couldn't remember. His head hurt, he couldn't focus. What had happened? Why couldn't he open his eyes? He couldn't move a muscle, he felt trapped. Trapped, just like when he was at Voldemort's service and the Dark Lord probed his mind, looking for information. He had been so vulnerable when his Master had done this to him... He had been trapped, trapped in his mind by the Dark Lord... and now he was trapped, trapped by Potter. Fear and fury flared through his confused mind. The little rat, he would pay, he really would. What had he forgotten? He needed to know. It was eating him up. What had Potter done? He knew it was there, up in his head, but where? He felt like he was trying to remember a dream after awaking from a long slumber. What was it? Potter would pay, what had he done? What had happened? What was his secret? He knew he had the answer, he just knew... but for now, he just felt tiered, weak, cornered. Why couldn't he wake up? He wanted to, he really did... and he wanted to remember, remember Potter's secret...

"Severus, wake up," hushed a soft voice.

He wanted to. He really wanted to, but he couldn't, he didn't have the strength. He wanted to focus on remembering, he needed to remember something, something big, something important, something that could be used to destroy Potter, something others needed to know, something, something...

"Severus, open your eyes."

He wanted to, but he had other preoccupations. His head was so heavy, he couldn't remember details he should have normally known. He could feel the pillow and mattress beneath him. Where was he? Why was he lying down? What had happened? He didn't remember.

"Severus, it is time to get up."

It was Potter's fault, he felt it, deep, deep down. He couldn't say what he had done, but he knew it was his fault. It was the only explanation to why he felt so much anger towards the boy at that moment.

"Severus, don't try to remember, you can't, the memories are gone."

Yes he would, he was the best occlumens, Harry couldn't win, he was a child. His secret did not belong to him, he, Severus Snape, needed it... to hurt him, hurt him like his father harmed him before. He would make him pay... but what was missing? Something, a thought or two...

"Harry destroyed them."

Impossible. He wasn't strong enough. Potter couldn't possibly hold the barrier of his mind much longer, he, Severus Snape, would crash in, he would, he would and he would see and know and... but what should he know? Things were missing, where had they gone? What had Potter taken away? The pain was excruciating... why? What had happened? Pain... was it the Cruciatus? Maybe... and it was all Potter's fault... he was going to pay, he, Severus Snape would know his secret...

"Severus, enough."

Severus Snape's eyes shot open. The ceiling was white, such a great difference with the darkness he had been plunged in. Why was his head so heavy? And the pain... it flooded his body, he felt faint.

"Welcome back, Severus," hushed the voice once more.

Severus tried to turn his neck to see who had spoken but couldn't manage. Dumbledore's face appeared, smiling down on him. Relief took hold of him and so the Potions Master sighed. Everything would be fine, he was safe.

"We thought you would never return," Dumbledore said.

Severus blinked, taking a few more instants to fully register what his superior had said... god, his head hurt.

"W-w-what... h-happened?" he muttered weakly. "P-potter... he... a secret... I know i-it..."

Dumbledore's smile weakened.

"I'm so sorry, Severus. I should have stopped him but I needed to know... I needed to know how far he would go to hide these thoughts away from us. I should have stopped him, I should have pulled you back when I realized Harry was serious," he sighed. "He destroyed your memories of what you saw, but thankfully, you will recover."

"N-no... I know, I r-r-really do," hissed Severus, using all the energy in his body to blurt out these few words. "I... I j-just need to think... remember... the m-memory is there."

"Unfortunately, it isn't. You think you have it but he destroyed it, Severus. He burned it, all there is left are cinders..."

"I'm sure I can r-remember," kept on saying the man.

"Suit yourself, Severus, but believe me when I say it is impossible. It's like trying to recall a dream once you awaken... it happened, but you will never remember."

"You said P-potter entering my m-mind was im-impossible," he continued.

Dumbledore stayed silent. He finished by nodding, letting Snape interpret his gesture like he wanted. He could keep on searching his mind, he could meditate and try to focus but it just seemed so improbable that he retrieved what Harry had made sure he wouldn't reach... but still... any possibilities were open at this point... maybe the memory would somehow reappear... maybe something would trigger its return.

"Professor!" yelled a younger voice as quick footsteps were heard marching forward.

"Looks like you have a visitor, Severus," said Dumbledore. "Draco Malfoy is here."

Severus arrived to move his head sideways and smiled feebly as Draco arrived at his level.

"I'm happy to see you are feeling better," said the young man. "We were worried."

"Mister Malfoy even went to Saint Mungo's to make sure everything would be all right for you, Severus," continued the Headmaster.

"I-I was at Saint Mungo's?"

"Yes, you were taken there in order for the right wizards to make sure you would be able to think straight again. You have just come back today," answered Draco.

"What day is it?"

"Saturday, Severus," said Dumbledore. "The students will be off to Hogsmeade soon and you have all weekend to regain your forces."

"Draco, help me get up," asked the Potion's Master. "I want to walk."

Draco passed his arm under his professor's shoulders and helped him raise himself. Severus sighed and winced but made a few steps on his own, holding his aching back.

"What happened, professor?" he finished by asking.

But Dumbledore did not answer, making a few steps towards the window, staring at the lands outside. Snape seemed to understand this gesture seeing that he nodded and sighed dramatically.

"I'm sorry Draco, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," he said gently. "I'm sorry but certain things need to be discussed between the headmaster and I before I talk with you. I'm sure you understand. I will talk to you tomorrow. And thank you."

Draco was about to protest, saying that he preferred staying with them, that he wouldn't mind what they were about to discuss, but the look his potion's master gave him was formal as he directed him the door. Without trying to hide his annoyance, the Slytherin left after one last look at the headmaster, who had not budged from his place by the window.

Once he was gone, Severus turned back towards Dumbledore.

"The Occlumency class did not go so well this time," said the older wizard. "Harry panicked; he destroyed the memories in your mind as a defense strategy."

"What?"

"He entered your mind while you were concentrating on whatever you were seeing in his mind. He was scared and angry. Somehow, he destroyed all the memories he could reach in your mind. Luckily, thanks to your pensieve and the marvelous work done by Saint Mungo's qualified staff, most of your thoughts will come back gradually. But many have been lost forever."

"How did he do it? Only a terribly skilled occlumens can destroy or steal someone else's memories! Even I can't do it... and to my knowing, only the Dark Lord has such powers!" replied Snape.

"Shush Severus, not here," answered Dumbledore. "And you seem to forget, we are talking about Harry Potter," he added with a chuckle. "The Boy Who Lived."

"It's still not understandable..."

"Nothing is understandable when it comes to him, Severus," whispered the headmaster. "He survived the killing curse, he's part of a prophecy, he has confronted the Dark Lord several times without being killed, he can speak Parceltongue, he just destroyed your memories... the list is long. Harry Potter is special. He is gifted. It is the last thing we can deny him of being."

"Yes, I can agree with that," the other man hissed. "But there is something else," he said, concentrating. "Something different."

"Don't try to remember what you saw in his mind, Severus. It will only hurt you."

"I felt... I felt his anger, professor," started Snape painfully. "And for an instant, before everything blanked out, I... I thought it was the Dark Lord. I thought _he_ was Lord Voldemort. When the Dark Lord entered my mind, he emanated a feeling... a strong feeling that is too powerful to truly be understood. It frightened me... and Potter was doing the same thing. For a moment, I was terrified of him because I saw to what extent he would go to do what he had to do. "

Dumbledore looked at him and nodded.

"Come," he said seriously. "I must make you remember certain important details that have taken place lately."

--------------

Harry looked up at the castle and sighed, feeling unusually tiered. Going to Hogsmeade now seemed pointless. Going without Draco, after imagining doing all sorts of things with him there, would not be amusing at all. In fact, he felt it would only hurt him, but he had to live with the pain, the pain and the weakness that seemed to gain a little more place in his chest every day. Draco had not wanted to come. He had not wanted to spend time with him.

"I might as well go pretend to get my mind off him," he whispered to himself almost inaudibly.

Taking his eyes off the castle, he turned around, covering himself with his father's invisibility cloak, blending in the wave of students that were marching towards the nearby village. His mind trying to focus on the crunching sound of the dead leaves under his feet, he walked forwards, away from where he wanted to be, with the one he needed to be.

He had decided to continue living with the pain of not being with him.

He walked and walked, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. Was it love? Could it be that? People around him saw it as something positive, something strong, something that brought happiness. Then why didn't it work on him?

"He has powers the Dark Lord knows not," he muttered to himself, thinking of the prophecy. "Love."

What was that supposed to mean? Nothing. Love could not be used as a weapon. Or could it? He didn't know, he couldn't tell. He did not know true love because it wasn't reciprocal. He only knew a facsimile of love, an imprint on his soul that stung and burned.

Complications were tiring now. They had amused him at first, but it was no longer the case. He wanted a simple life, like it had been during his first and second years at school. Adventures, but not too great ones. Trouble, but one that can be understood. Questions with answers and speeches with meanings. No silent pleas addressed to the one that haunts his dreams, no taboo subject of discussion. Love? Yes, it must be it. Pain and silence. But Ron and Hermione seemed happy enough, and they were experiencing something close to love. What a waste, he couldn't taste the real thing. Draco was out of reach.

--------------

Walking down a hallway whose left wall windows gave a perfect view of the grounds bellow, Draco could see the other students making their way towards Hogsmeade.

And a terrible secret was weighing down on him now.

A week had passed since his magical forces had started diminishing. A week since his curses had started fading, his spells weakening, a week since sleep did not come easily and energy was not restored. He did not tell anyone of course, because the reason was all too evident.

"I was so stupid," he muttered. "So, so stupid."

At the beginning of September, all he had wanted was to find a way of being with Harry. He would have done anything to be by his side, to hear him talk and watch him be... and in that state of foolishness, he had done something he now regretted and he was sure Harry had most probably forgotten. Heck, even he had forgotten, wanting only to forget Harry.

When Harry had wounded himself with a piece of ceramic in the empty classroom Professor Le Fey had used for her flowers, Draco had taken him to the infirmary. Afterwards, wanting to stay with each other, wanting to make sure a second meeting would really happen, they had made a deal. A deal in which Draco had promised to teach Harry the Dark Arts and in exchange, he would receive what he asked for. The Slytherin had used a spell to make sure he and Harry would be forced to see each other because of the deal. Now, after such a long absence apart, the spell was having an effect on them, weakening them, making them remember their engagement.

But Draco had been so sure he would forget his feelings, he had not approached Harry since the detention. Now, things were getting complicated. The desire to destroy those strange feelings and the simple desire of wanting to be with the other were clashing, opposing themselves with such force that they weakened, slowly but surely.

Draco was sure Harry made no link between his lack of energy and the deal they had made. In fact, he was quite sure Harry had completely forgotten about their pact. He seemed too preoccupied by other things to think about that. He was, after all, the Boy-who-Lived.

-we made a deal,- Draco reminded himself. –A deal in which I would teach him Dark Arts and in exchange, I would receive what I asked for... I could ask anything. Anything... a kiss, a night with him... anything! Because I used a spell, he couldn't do anything to stop it from happening. But I feel weak, so weak... I'm not respecting my duty in this deal, I haven't taught him anything yet, and the effects are starting to appear. It's been too long... I can't go on like this.-

Draco had been warned by magically sealed deals. When they were not completed, horrible things could happen according to the significance of the pact. People could die when they did not do what they had promised to do, because 'death was a fair exchange to a broken promise' as his father said. But he was still in learning, at Hogwarts. Draco's spell could only weaken them to an incredible extent if he did not see Harry, talk to him and be with him.

And he felt stupid, because now he not only truly wanted to be with the Griffindor but he also needed too, in order for him to be in a normally good health.

Things seemed so uselessly complicated, he didn't like thinking about them anymore. Why was he keeping away from Harry again? Why wasn't he succumbing to what he wanted?

It actually took him a moment to remember his father, to remember that Malfoys could not do such things.

But maybe he wasn't born to be like a Malfoy! Maybe he would be different, he could be with Harry, and then... and then what? He could confess his love and they would live like a happy little couple? No, such a fairytale could not come true.

But for now he was missing out on the whole story, Harry being in Hogsmeade, and he in Hogwarts, alone, needing and wanting him like he had never before.

Would his father truly mind? Of course he would, but the idea that he wouldn't was enticing. What about his title? His duty as Slytherin... now that he thought of it, he did not really care anymore. All that really mattered was Harry, Harry, Harry. And how annoying it was becoming... how long would it last? Couldn't the feelings just go away and leave him alone? He knew they would never, they would torment him for the rest of his life even if he found a wife, married and had children in a faraway castle where no one would never reach him...

Then why the bloody hell was he waiting his time? It was not complicated, it was simple. He needed Harry. Not only for his physical health, but for his mental one as well. And to say all of this had started with a simple letter... could it be possible? Was this attraction as strong as it seemed, was it powerful enough to change who he truly was? Incredible.

He started marching rather fast.

Was he willing to do anything for it, even if it was only a dream, an illusion? If it was, he would hold onto it forever. What about his father, the Dark Lord, his whole family?

Fuck them, it had always been about them... now it was going to be about him.

And at that moment, he needed to find Harry, he longed for his presence and no one was going to stop him from having what he wanted, because he was Draco Malfoy, and Malfoys always got it their way.

--------------

Leaning on his cane, Severus limped forwards by Dumbledore's side, snarling.

"I was robbed, professor, robbed... memories are considered one of the greatest thefts possible in the wizarding world, that foolish young man could be punished, he should!" he snapped. "The Ministry... it should know this... the boy does not understand his power, he is a menace! And he should pay for what he has done, the information he has taken was of tremendous importance, sir, I feel it, I know it!"

Professor Dumbledore sighed heavily.

"We cannot jeopardize our situation already, Severus," he whispered in a hushed tone. "And... I fear you forgot certain things I must remind you," he added as they stopped in front of the statue behind which was the passage leading to his office.

He said the password and entered, followed by the Potion's Master. The statue moved back to its original place once they had passed, stopping any one else from entering. The two men made their way to the main room, and once they were in, the second door was closed behind them.

Albus motioned Severus to sit down as he contoured his desk. Once this was done, he sat down and another sigh escaped his lips. Severus' eyes darted around the room and noticed all the portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses were staring at them, motionless, as if sensing the importance of the conversation to come.

Severus then took note of the velvet cloth covering an unknown object on the Headmaster's desk. With one motion of Dumbledore's hand, the cloth was removed, exposing a fragile-looking crystal orb.

"Do you recognize this, Severus?" he asked.

Severus closed his eyes for a second or two. Yes he did, he remembered seeing it, he remembered it had brought fear and confusion among many people... but what was it? What did it mean? The memories could not be found... anger took hold of him when he recalled this was all Potter's fault.

"No, I cannot remember much information about it," he hissed, staring at the strange globe in which green smoke slowly coiled and twisted, unfading. Dumbledore's eyes stared at it without really seeing it.

"Don't you find it feels like yesterday Harry arrived at Hogwarts... filled with courage and optimism, still unbelieving this was truly happening to him... and now... probably because of all we have exposed to him... he is making mistakes..."

Severus did not answer.

"... mistakes... all having started because of that Death Eater's son pulling him away from the clear path that once laid ahead of him. Now it is anything but clear in his mind, he is stuck seeing things get more and more complicated..."

"Does this orb have anything to do with this, professor?" asked the Potion's Master.

Dumbledore looked up and eyed him calmly, evaluating something that was unknown to everyone but himself. A week ago, Severus would have still remembered everything about the orb if he hadn't let him adventure himself so far in Harry Potter's mind. Now, the conversation had to be repeated because Severus was one with the right to know, the need to know... the only thing Dumbledore feared at the moment was that Harry had not destroyed Snape's mind but had in fact absorbed information about everything... starting with the orb... and that would not be good. Ignorance was at the moment an advantage for Harry, and he already seemed to have so much on his mind...

"This is a prophecy, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Trelawney forecasted it not too long ago. The Keeper of Prophecies came to create a copy and try to elucidate it, and I was allowed to keep the original version. We had a meeting in which you were present... but it seems those memories have been destroyed."

Silence crashed in between them and with one nod, the Headmaster triggered the Prophecy for Severus to hear. Trelawney's croaky voice immediately echoed in the room, pronouncing every word as if they held more than what they seemed to.

_The Day of Reckoning comes into view... as the balance of power shatters to the hands of a stolen heart... connected by fate, separated by life... One will fall and One will rise... death cradles One in its embrace but fears the other... everlastingly united by soul... both will depart this life before living again to see old age under different skies to which only they hold the future..._

Severus looked up at the Headmaster, waiting for an explanation, details and ideas he knew he had already known once, before, a long time before where all his memories had been his and his alone.

"This is an insight into the future, Severus," Albus said softly, looking away from the orb, staring blankly into the unknown. "You know they are created when something particularly special takes place, giving us only a glimpse of what is to come. We do not know what triggered it seeing that it was probably hidden from us. We have a strong feeling this prophecy involves Harry Potter, yet we cannot show it to him or ask him about what he was doing when it was prophesized because... because it is simply better off this way."

"Maybe not. He could give us more details into what it is about," Severus supposed. "Hiding things from him no longer gives us an advantage."

"Yes it does because it gives us time to plan what to do... and on his side, Mister Potter is not being completely honest with us and is already preoccupied with all sorts of problems. We need to give him space. He does not want to hear anything from us at the moment."

"But he will not like that. Once he discovers we have hidden this from him, the gap between him and our side will expand, taking him one step closer to the other side."

Albus paused, passing his fingers in his beard. He knew there was a piece of truth in what he was saying, but chances could not be taken. If Harry decided to tell Draco, who himself warned the Dark Lord, the last person they wanted to keep the prophecy away from would know and use this knowledge, just like he had done by going after Harry and his parents. And the prophecy had been told. They could no longer change it. If Harry Potter was bound to join the Dark Side, he would and nothing could stop that.

"So many clues can be found in this prophecy, and it can be interpreted in so many ways..." the old man said.

"What do we know for sure?" asked Severus.

"It starts off by speaking of a Day of Reckoning, most probably the day during which the war opposing both sides of the Wizarding World will end."

"There is no insight into which side will conquer the other?"

"Absolutely not. It only mentions the balance of power, which is the link between good and evil, and the fact that it will be broken."

"... By Potter?" asked Snape tentatively.

"It is the most logical solution, and all signs point to that but maybe not. The prophecy does make a few allusions to a second being."

"And who would that be?"

"... Do I really need to say it, Severus?" replied the Headmaster. "We debated for hours about this matter, weighing the pros and cons, trying to discern who this being could be..."

"If you are thinking of Draco Malfoy, I am sure... hum..." said Snape, hesitating as he thought of the possibility of it being true. "Well... maybe it is him. Everything would fit in perfectly."

"The prophecy involves two beings attending this school... two special young beings apparently bound by fate... Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

"For the good or for the worst," grumbled the potion's master.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, that would make sense but at the beginning of the prophecy, why is Potter referred to as a stolen heart?" Snape asked.

"We are not sure but our strongest guess is that his heart will decide on which side he will go... if he will join the Dark side or not. And so theoretically, his choice is already in his heart. Maybe the secret you saw in Harry's head was his decision when it came to that, but we cannot know."

"Do you think Draco will arrive to make Potter join his side?"

"Severus, no one can tell. He does not trust us, he spent a summer with a Death Eater's son and has learned to trust him. If put in the right conditions, Harry is able to do anything. But joining the Dark Lord is one thing I am very unsure he could do. Joining the man who killed his parents and ruined his life is not a likely thing that could take place."

"But the prophecy mentions a death... if Potter dies, the Dark Lord will live on... horror can only ensue…"

Dumbledore eyed the orb, thinking. Yes, the prophecy also dealt with death. Was Harry going to be the one to loose his life? The information contained in the very first prophecy that spoke of Harry Potter and the Dark Lord would then coincide with the fact that the Dark Side would triumph. It would be horrible. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived could not possibly die. But what if he died killing the Dark Lord? His life would have served its purpose, but he couldn't die, he simply couldn't. This couldn't forecast the death of Hope.

"Let us suppose Draco Malfoy... if he is in deed the second being mentioned by the prophecy... is the one that dies," said Snape, passing his fingers on his chin. "He would be the one that falls, the one who is cradled by death... but wait a minute, Potter is most likely the one who is cradled by death, he has faced it so many times!"

"What if the balance of power shattered to Draco's hands, and not Harry's?"

"Who will die..."

"Both," sighed Dumbledore. "the prophecy says that '_both will depart this life'._"

"'_before living again to see old age under different skies'_!" continued Snape. "So they will live!"

"Maybe it is in death that they will see old age, Severus," mused Dumbledore. "We do not know what lies after death, maybe it makes allusions to that."

"So both will die... which one will fall first? And if death fears one but both are killed... one will die reluctantly and the other will die willingly?"

Dumbledore looked up at him.

"I had not thought of such possibility," he said, smiling. "Yes... it could be possible."

"But we know nothing for sure," Snape growled. "This prophecy does not give us facts, it gives us ideas of what could happen. Anything could take place and could correspond to that prophecy!"

The Headmaster stayed silent, waiting for Snape to express his ideas more clearly.

"What if we are analyzing this the wrong way?" ventured Snape. "What if... what if it is much simpler than that?"

"We will not know until it happens," said Albus, closing his eyes. "Unfortunately, we can only wait and see."

_The Day of Reckoning comes into view... as the balance of power shatters to the hands of a stolen heart... connected by fate, separated by life... One will fall and One will rise... death cradles One in its embrace but fears the other... everlastingly united by soul... both will depart this life before living again to see old age under different skies to which only they hold the future..._

"Harry, what will you do?" whispered the old wizard, staring sadly at the orb.

--------------

Harry stood by Zonko's joke shop, still hidden under his invisibility cloak. He stared at the students walking in and out of the shop, laughing at what they had seen or what they were hoping to find. All were wearing their cloaks, the autumn breeze reminding them to cover up. It had rained, transforming the streets into mazes of mud, but none seemed bothered by it. They were in Hogsmeade, and only amusements could be found here.

The black-haired young man had watched Ron and Hermione walk off towards the Shrieking Shack hand in hand but had very quickly stopped himself from following them, knowing they wouldn't talk but rather snog, and that was the last thing he needed to see at that moment, not when he thought such activity seemed illicit to him. It would never happen, and definitely not with the one he wanted to kiss.

He sighed and looked back towards the door of the joke shop, moving at the last minute to avoid being walked into by Lavender Brown. Someone running down the street caught his eye, and so he stared at the back of the cloak making its way swiftily through the crowd of young witches and wizards. It stopped in front of the window of the Three Broomsticks, and the owner of the cloak bent forward, trying to see through the glass and into the building, as if looking for something.

It is only once he turned around that Harry realized he had been watching none other than Draco Malfoy, who seemed rather agitated as he walked to a second store's window display, trying to see inside.

For a second, Harry hoped he was looking for him. Could he be? Could he have changed his mind? Or maybe he had simply lied to him in order to be burdened by his presence. But then who could he be looking for so avidly? Maybe Crabbe or Goyle, but it was rather unlikely seeing that he was seen a lot more by himself these days. What if...

Harry quickly took off his cloak and started marching in the opposite direction. What if?

He heard someone call out his name but was too afraid to turn around. Would it be the Slytherin or simply another friend?

His name was called out again, and he smiled, because this time the voice was recognized, hopeful, slightly annoyed, and slightly stuck-up.

"Harry, stop, for Merlin's sake."

Harry turned around and stared, wide eyed, at the blond boy slightly panting in front of him.

"I changed my mind," the Slytherin huffed.

Harry smiled.

"You want to spend time with me?" he asked sheepishly.

"Of course I do, you thick oaf," snapped Draco, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him away from the street.

With a swish of his invisibility cloak, Harry covered them both, hiding themselves from the prying gaze of all the others.

"I'm lucky I found you, with that invisibility cloak of yours," Draco said.

They walked away from the village, marching quietly through unused paths zigzagging through the surrounding vegetation. A conversation started, slightly shaky at first, as always. Assurance followed with practical jokes, complaints, subtle insults and laughter. Just like friends...

Time seemed to pass much faster when Draco was with him. Hunger took hold of them rather quickly and they decided to walk back to the village to get something to eat. One of them would walk into the Three Broomsticks and order food for both. They would go down to the Shrieking Shack to eat together, alone, undisturbed.

And Harry smiled, because at that moment, he truly knew he was happy. Maybe love wasn't as complicated as he thought, maybe it wasn't painful and horrible. Because the feeling that filled him at that moment was light, powerful and simple. Was it love? It couldn't possibly be anything else.

He glimpsed in Draco's direction to confirm what he was saying. No, it wasn't a lie, it wasn't his imagination or any other cause he could have interpreted it to be. It could only be love. Not a crush, not this week's fantasy, because it felt like so much more than that. Love... if felt wonderful, he wasn't ashamed to see it as what it was anymore.

But with that thought came an awful realization. Draco didn't know, and seeing how he felt, Harry had no choice but to tell him...

And it was time to do it.

It was time to talk to Draco about what he thought of him, the dreams he kept on having, the feelings that kept on resurfacing whenever he thought he had gotten rid of them, the need of being with him and the impossibility of taking his mind off him.

It was no longer question of the fear of loosing him if he did not understand, it was the fear of never being able to say it. Because saying it verbally would only make it stronger, it would affirm all his thoughts and make one less preoccupation on his mind. And hiding it was useless, it hurt him. At least, once it was out, Draco would know why he continually needed his company, asked for his presence incessantly and always resented the need of looking at his face.

There had always been a part of his mind that objected his reasoning, that had always fried to convince him to keep quiet, that it was wrong, immoral, senseless, stupid and incredibly reckless to jeopardize who he was for him, for a _boy_, for Draco Malfoy.

He looked at Draco and saw that he was smiling as well, staring at the road ahead of them, words escaping through his lips as he recited a funny story that Harry was no longer paying attention to, because all he could hear was the turbulent pounding of his heart.

And this time, instead of making him think he was going to loose everything if he tried, seeing Draco only made his courage grow stronger. Because he had not been placed in Griffindor for nothing, he had the courage and he was going to use it. He wanted to. He_ needed _to.

"Draco, I need to talk to you," he said very calmly, interrupting him.

It was going to be all or nothing, having Draco or loosing him forever. At least his mind would be at ease, because keeping those feelings locked up made his head turn and insides melt in a very disagreeable way.

"But I was just about to give you the punch line of my Chinese tourist joke!" said Draco, frowning even though he did not really care about the joke, all he wanted was to see Harry laugh. But Harry was not laughing, he was serious, slightly agitated and confident. A state in which he had never seen him before. And so the Slytherin nodded, not knowing what to expect.

"O-okay," Harry said, focusing on what he was about to do. "You... you might want to sit down."

The Slytherin looked around and noticed abandoned barrels placed next to the backdoor of the Three Broomsticks. He pushed himself onto one and took Harry's invisibility cloak wrapping it around him in order for only his head and feet to be visible. But Harry was too concentrated with what he was about to do to tell him not to be childish and to listen to every word he was about to say.

"Go ahead," mocked the Slytherin, leaning on the wall behind him.

'_Come on Harry, Griffindor courage! Griffindor courage!'_ the green-eyed young man kept repeating to himself like a mantra that would get him to heaven.

He looked into Draco's eyes. He was about to spill his heart out, and the Slytherin didn't even know. Would he understand? Was telling him everything really worth it? What about the consequences? What if Draco went off telling everyone, mocking him, bringing him down and of course, rejecting him? He didn't want to loose him... but he couldn't stop himself from starting to confess.

"Well," he started off. "You know how you can suddenly become... very confused in your life... as you face something that could be a life-altering decision? You have to make choices you'd prefer not doing, but some times, you just have to do it yourself because there is no one else to do it for you, and you wouldn't let anyone else do it for you if there was such person, anyways."

Draco looked at him without moving, wondering what he was talking about. This was typically Harry, turning around the pot, not getting to the point until the very end, bringing him to the brink of sanity with all his dilly dallying. But he didn't feel like interrupting and telling him to tell him straight away what he wanted to say, because the Griffindor seemed to concentrate very hard on every word he was using. He gesticulated, moving his arms and feet about, staring at the ground, then at the sky, then into his own eyes, where they melted and disappeared behind closed lids which stayed tightly shut before reopening quite suddenly to stare at the ground again. All the Slytherin do was stare at his eyelashes, watching them flutter up and down at a regular pace.

"This is for me, one of those moments," Harry sighed. "I really have to do it, and I can only hope you will understand... but I'm not starting at the right place. You... you know when you want to say something, but you're afraid of the reaction that could be provoked by what you want to say?"

Draco looked at him with a smile and simply nodded.

"And this... this kind of secret is not something unimportant. It's something crucial that could either make your life wonderful or... or terrible," Harry continued, reddening with every word he added. "But I'll live with it if you don't understand! I will, I truly will. I don't know exactly how, but I will. I'll concentrate on other things, I'll... I'll find a hobby or something..."

The blond boy felt a lump in his throat, but had no idea why. What was his rival rambling on about? He did not know yet. Whatever it was, it seemed awfully hard to say... and in a way... what he was feeling felt like something he had been resenting as well...

The Griffindor laughed uncertainly.

"Yeah... so, so please bear in mind that I won't bother you if you don't want me around anymore. But- no Draco, don't interrupt me, please, please, just don't."

Harry looked fearfully at Draco, covering his rival's mouth with one of his hands, holding him in place with the other.

"Just... just don't. It's hard enough like this," he sighed. "Because... because when you live with such a secret, you harbor with an indestructible insecurity that gains more and more place in your heart every day... the kind that makes you become fearful... You're horribly, horribly afraid like you've never ever been before..."

The Slytherin was no longer smiling, because what Harry was saying was no longer comical. It was no longer amusing, or even confusing, because it was true, because it was what Draco was living with; the fright of losing Harry, the dream of being with him and the irrefutable anxiety holding everything together. It fit in perfectly, what he was saying he could have said himself... And as Harry went on trying to explain something to him, hope was coming back, the same blind hope that he had tried to get rid of so many times. The hope he would feel the same.

"But you don't know what to do because you know your whole life's happiness seems to be at stake... do you know how important that is? I can feel it, I can, because I know that if you don't understand what I'm saying, I'm as good as dead. But... but I'll understand, you know that, don't you Draco? If I loose... if you loose this happiness, this important thing, it's your downfall and you know all you will do is suffer," Harry went on, fists by his sides, eyes drilling a hole in the ground.

He shut his eyes tightly for a moment. Was he really doing this? He could stop, he could stop right now and Draco wouldn't know and they could go back to how they were, walking down the alley looking for another activity. He could pretend to be happy, he could keep his secret, he didn't have to put it at risk like he was doing at that moment. And he could feel Draco's icy eyes staring at him.

"But you're afraid to suffer," Draco continued softly, getting up from his place, letting go of the invisibility cloak, staring at Harry. "You decide not to do anything, for fear of loosing the little bit of happiness you have with you when you keep your secret locked up."

"But it eats you from inside-"

"It isn't enough," murmured Draco almost inaudibly, now looking at the ground.

"Because you want more and you need more," Harry went on, eyes wide, ready to cry because the hope was back and it was lodged in his throat, killing him to whisper _'I'm in love with you'._

"But you're scared and all your bravery leaves you when it comes to that one, most crucial thing you're trying to say," whispered Draco. "So you enjoy every little moment, every little spark of joy..."

"Trying to forget that it could be a million times better if you only asked..." Harry whispered back.

"If you only opened up and said it out loud..."

"If you told him..."

"But you don't, because you're too afraid of loosing what you've got," the Slytherin muttered.

They stared at each other, vivid green eyes drilling into two pools of icy water. Neither could bring himself to add another word, because what would be said next would be final and decisive. It was no longer about hope, it was about knowing. Because at that moment, they knew there was no turning back.

Draco was horribly close to him, if he turned his head and bent down just a little, he could kiss him, have a taste of him, something he'd wanted to have for what seemed like an eternity. But was it a risk he was willing to take? Was he one hundred percent sure Harry was talking about the same thing, that he felt the same way? His instincts told him yes, but his logic did not. The fear took him, but he pushed it away.

Harry felt sick, the hopefulness clawing his insides like a wild animal. Was it true? Could it possibly... No, impossible. It couldn't be that good.

But Draco smiled, and it made all the difference in the world.

_It was going to be all or nothing_

Harry bent forward, his cheek brushing against his rival's own. He would whisper it, and it would be over.

"I..."

A thunderous explosion was heard, powerful and deafening, coming from the end of the alley. Students froze, turned around, looking for the source of such tremendous force. A second detonation followed as fear started settling in the minds of all those present. Then a third and a fourth outburst came as the ground rumbled. Draco gabbed onto Harry as they ran towards the end of the alley to look at the main street, and there, as they stood motionless for a few moments, there was only stillness as smoke dissipated where the explosions had occurred. Swiftly and surely, the smoke thickened and became green, slithering lazily into the sky. Left where it had appeared, in all corners of the village, were cloaked wizards above which were floating the Dark Mark. Piercing screams destroyed the brief moment of silence that had fell upon the little town. The earth kept on growling and suddenly, the sky did not seem so bright, the sun seemed to have cowardly hid behind the darkening smoke surrounding the Dark Marks.

A screeching laugh echoed through the main street of Hogsmeade as anarchy ensued. Wands were drawn and curses started illuminating the sky, leaping from left to right and high and low like muggle fireworks. A ray of light stroked quite violently the wall of the building the closest to the two young men and bricks started cascading to the ground.

In the blink of an eye, a strange misty fog had covered the streets, rendering impossible the identification of allies or foes. Draco jumped to his feet and leaped sideways, grabbing his wand from his pocket as he leaned on the wall of the nearby building. He tried to keep his calm but it was more than impossible when all he could hear were piercing screams and all he could see was chaos. The sky was covered by a thick layer of black smoke that prevented the sun of enlightening this frenzied sight as the most daunting of marks shone in the sky, casting greenish shades through Hogsmeade, proving only one thing: the Death Eaters were attacking.

The ground shook once more as sparks flew, curses hitting walls, windows, students and adults alike. The noise was horrendous, screams, shouts, sounds of torture and laughs, laughs he recognized yet was unable to place just yet. A little girl fell to the ground close by, disappearing in the fog, but she rose soon enough, crawling back up and running off again with what seemed to be half a wand.

"GET DOWN!" someone screeched a few yards away.

Draco suddenly took notice of the imposing black mass of cloak marching resolutely towards him. A wand appeared and a jet of light insued, but Draco hit the ground before anything could hit him. He scampered away, staying very low, swarming in the mud to get away without being seen.

The Death Eater seemed to have left because nothing else was heard, but something came quite suddenly to the Slytherin's mind.

"Harry?" he yelled, looking around him. "HARRY?"

He jumped to his feet and saw that behind the spot where he had once stood were the fuming ruins of what had been a dusty library. Had the Death Eater's spell done _that_? He did not remember the blast, having only thought of protecting himself.

He ran back into the main street anxiously searching for his rival. He yelled out his name several times but no answer came. Finally, he spotted the Griffindor lying in the mud about twenty yards from him, half covered by the invisibility cloak. Draco quickly ran up to him and knelt by his side, shaking him. He seemed to have been hit, either by a spell or debris of broken buildings. There was a deep cut at the base of his neck, bleeding profusely.

Was it a dangerous wound? Draco couldn't say. He pulled off his muddy blue scarf and looked at it for a moment before casting numerous cleaning and disinfecting spells onto it. He then tied it tightly around Harry's neck, covering the wound with what he hoped was a suitable bandage.

A moan escaped Harry's lips as he opened his eyes. He shakily tried to get up as the scarf was suddenly dyed blood red, the Griffindor colour. Harry stared at Draco sadly for a moment, as if he was about to appologize.

"Get up, they're attacking!" Draco yelled, pulling him up. "We have to get out of here."

Just as Draco was about to make a second step forward, someone shot out of the fog and grabbed him by the colar, lifting him off the ground and throwing him sideways. He landed on his back, in the mud, and stayed there breathless for a moment. But Harry's scream brought him back to his senses and he rose only to see a follower of the Dark Lord, tracing his wand on his rival's face, holding him by the neck, pressing him against what was left of the outer wall of the Three Broomsticks.

Blood, crimson rivulets of it, flowed on the Death Eater's glove and sleeve as he pressed tightly on the wound positioned on the Boy-Who-Lived's neck.

Draco paled, watching the horrid sight. Harry did not have his wand, it was lost, somewhere in the fog. He was kicking, clawing that being's arm but it simply wouldn't let go. His face was loosing it's colour, his lips were suddenly redder that usual, and suddenly blood appeared, leaking quietly through his parted lips.

But the blond young man stood frozen in place, staring, unable to move. It was time to choose, but it was only subconsciously that that fact was passing through his mind.

He soundly rose to his feet, still watching the Death Eater. Now he was banging Harry's head on the wall and the Griffindor would soon be unconscious. What would happen then? Would he be taken to the Dark Lord? Would it be the end of him? Would he still be tortured by all the Death Eaters, would he be humiliated and killed in a very gruesome way? Would the Dark Lord survive and Harry Potter die... leaving Draco alone...

He wouldn't allow it, it would be much too selfish on Harry's part. He couldn't abandon him now, now when they had been so close...

He did not remember opening his mouth, or even pointing his wand at the Death Eater. All he remembered was the blood that suddenly streaked the air before disappearing, and the muffled yell of pain as he let go of the black-haired young man.

He grabbed hold of his face and throwing one look in Draco's direction, he disappeared into the murkiness.

Draco stood there, unmoving. Was this going to be the end of him? He had attacked a Death Eater. He had attacked him, he had protected Harry, he had attacked and hurt one of the Dark Lord's followers. He was going to die, he could feel it. Was this his downfall? Was it Harry?

Speaking of Harry, he was gasping for air, trying to hold onto the wall, but his eyes were staring into the unknown and his wound kept on bleeding...

Draco ran to him, suddenly fearing the worst. He passed his hands on the Griffondor's cold cheeks and made sure the wound was properly covered. He held onto him, burying his head in his chest, grabbing onto him like he would never let go. He felt Harry's hand passing through his muddy hair.

"Don't worry, Harry," he said. "Everything will be fine, I promise."

Harry closed his eyes, forgot the pain and simply held onto him. He knew Draco was there for him and would not abandon him... to his greatest joy, it had just been proven to him. Everything would be fine.

--------------

Hidden in an alleyway behind the Hog's Head, Bellatrix Lestrange, undoubtedly one of Voldemort's most faithful followers, got rid of the mask that covered her face as she panted heavily, trying to catch her breath. She started looking left and right, looking to find one of her compatriots, but none had arrived yet. The screams of children that could be heard even from where she was standing brought a smile to her face, deforming her features, divulging her madness once again. She chuckled, balancing her head ever so lightly. She wanted to go back on the main road and find the little ones that were trying to hide, but she couldn't because her mission was done and she needed to find her partners and go back to Lord Voldemort. Her Dark Mark was tingling, making her know he was waiting for her at that very moment, waiting for her to bring her good news. And she was jubilant, because she was not going to disappoint him.

Footsteps running her way made her duck next to the wall, bringing out her wand in case it was an Auror or any other wizard that might want to stop her from returning to her master. But it wasn't, it was one of her kind, and as he entered the alleyway, panting even more strongly than she was, she knew something was wrong by the thin trail of blood that followed him.

"Bella..." he whispered, bending down, dropping his wand and covering his masked face with his hands.

"Oh no," Bellatrix whispered, running in the Death Eater's direction. "What happened? Was it Potter?"

But the Death Eater only groaned in pain, incapable of answering. Bellatrix placed her hands on his and slowly took off his mask. A look of revulsion passed on Bellatrix' face, but only for an instant. The skin on the right side of the wizard's face seemed to have been clawed off, leaving four parallel marks slither on his features all the way down to his neck. One of them could have made him loose his right eye, but it seemed fine. The cuts were deep, blood gliding down his skin as he clutched onto the side of his face.

"It's not too bad," Bellatrix whispered.

But the wizard was not preoccupied by that. His mind was clouded in anger and confusion as he stared at the ground at his feet, where blood was slowly dripping. Because Draco Malfoy, a young man that was supposed to support Voldemort's cause had successfully attacked him. And he had seen in his eyes that it was not to pretend being Potter's friend. It was for himself, and it was confusing to see that maybe they were loosing him, loosing him to the Light Side.

"This... this has gone too far," Lucius Malfoy hushed as he held on to his wounded face.

-------------------------------------------------

**IMPORTANT NOTICE:** I hope you enjoyed this chapter. All those who review seem to all have a jolly good time reading this fic, and that is the greatest pleasure I get when writing it. The storyline is going to advance much faster now, concentrating on our two main characters' love, Voldie's plans and the rest of the Wizarding World. **I REALLY NEED YOUR FEEDBACK TO KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT YOU NEED, WHAT YOU THINK/WANT TO HAPPEN.** I am writing this **_FOR YOU_**. Do you want more of Draco's POV? More Death Eaters? Scenes with Voldie? More action? More fluffy scenes? Angst? You tell me, I _need_ to know!

Bittersweet Revenge

p.s.: (suggestion) don't forget to check on my blog (link on my bio page) to find info concerning Dear Rival updates, hints to what will happen, pieces of writing... stuff going on with me... and all of that


	20. Chapter 20

this isn't another abandonned story :) Yes, I have been busy, don't hold it against me! I'm graduating from High School in a month, I have a lot of exams to go through. My laptop was in a coma for the past four months, but it is back and this chapter was, thanks to some miracle, still in it. I'm sure the technician who repaired my laptop had a blast reading all my slash.

**-------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 20:**

His eyes were closed, his glasses, removed from his nose, were now resting on the night table and Draco took his time inspecting each and every one of his dark lashes, examining every detail of his features – curve of his lips, the arc of his brows, the bridge of his nose and the few freckles erratically found on his skin – as if they revealed something he had never noticed before. It was simple yet troubling the way he found all of this normal. This boy laying unconscious in the bed in front of him... it was love. Because it was only now that he took notice that what was in front of him was what he was ready to give everything up for. He had chosen it as quickly as he had placed himself between his rival and that Death Eater.

The whole scenario felt like a dream, and yet it could not be, the wonderful daze that drowned his mind when he was really sleeping having nothing to do with reality. His clothes were filthy from the dirt and mud and his muscles were truly aching, tired from having dragged Harry all the way to the hospital wing, where so many other students could be found, all of them fearful and in pain. Draco had unwillingly made up his mind, and his decision did not involve letting anyone hurt the young dark-haired man laying in front of him. Was it that hard to believe?

Draco Malfoy was in love, in love with Harry Potter. Hell, it wasn't love, it was an obsession, an obsession that had pushed him to betray his family, deceive who he thought he could have been... what would happen then? Who was the Death Eater he had hexed, and what would the Dark Lord think? A Malfoy protecting Harry Potter.

He could already see himself on his knees, in front of his father, in front of the Dark Lord, surrounded by Death Eaters he could no longer recognize trying to stutter a vague lie, desperately trying to protect himself, to protect Harry. What would he say? That he did not want anyone but the Dark Lord to hurt the Boy Who Lived? That he knew it was what Voldemort would have wanted? Lies everyone would see through, lies that would get him nowhere. There was no point in hiding it, he was doomed.

He knew it by the way Harry's chest rose and descended as his intakes of air kept him alive, by the way everything seemed too bright, too surreal. Was this his place in life, waiting by Potter's bed, looking down at him fondly as if nothing else mattered?

But other things did matter. What would happen to him? What would happen to them? They had declared it to each other, what was between them could not be considered anything else but love... passion, desire and lust, nouns that all meant the same thing. They, who had been pushed in opposite directions were now connected in a way not even dreams could bring...

But their differences made him want to scream. He was a Slytherin, the other was a Griffindor... they were enemies; they could never be together without the world being opposed to them, opposed to him. Because he was a Death Eater's son, and he could never be completely trusted. Would Harry even trust him completely? He did not know.

Everything seemed so peaceful now, as if nothing really mattered. He was insensible to the blood on his hands, the mud on his clothes, the cries around him and the strange smell of burnt wood that reached his nostrils from time to time. All he could really concentrate on was Harry. His legs were numb for having stood there so long but he would have to be knocked unconscious to be moved, that he knew it.

Madam Pomfrey had said that everything was more or less fine, but that it could have been horrible if Draco had not done anything. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn't helped him! But then again... could another possibility, such as Harry Potter dying, be truly considered? Did Fate not hide behind every action a man made throughout his life? Then it was Malfoy's fate to die due to the fact he loved Harry Potter. Or would Harry save him, just like he had saved so many others throughout his years at Hogwarts? Harry would vanquish the Dark Lord, they would run away and be happy together...

Draco heaved a sigh, shuffling his feet in anger. What a foolish thing to actually take the time to imagine that there would be a happy ending to their situation. What an idiotic thing for Draco to be optimistic. He suddenly became aware of the wails, cries and restrained screeches that filled the room, as if he had swiftly recovered the use of his ears when coming back to the cruel reality that was laid out in front of him.

Harry hurt and unconscious, others crying, the ground covered in mud, shadows of students twisted in pain seen through the canvas sheets that separated the room into an undefined amount of compartments... Draco even thought that only the lucky firsts were located in the Hospital Wing, so many more were probably located in other rooms through the castle. Madam Pomfrey had probably summoned beds in the hallway leading to the hall where she usually worked, to accommodate all the others. She now had numerous staff members from Saint Mungo's to help her with her fastidious occupation.

Some students were not hurt, some of them not having been in Hogsmeade when the disaster occurred. They were scurrying left and right helping the others, fetching them what they needed, giving out messages... indeed, the windows of the castle were now all shut tight seeing that owls kept barging in at any moment, frantically searching for whoever the letter was addressed to. Everyone knew who they were from: parents, family members, all of which had been informed through the news. A reporter for the Daily Prophet must have been in the Three Broomsticks because Dumbledore would have made sure that the situation was under control before letting the rest of the world know about what had happened. He most probably did not want parents appearing at Hogwarts looking for their children to take them away, exposing them even further to the dangers the war was bringing.

_The war._

Was this it? Was this the beginning? It sure looked like it. Had it been the same thing seventeen years earlier? Had the Dark Lord attacked innocent, defenseless children before? He could not see any motives other than letting the world know that he was back, but even then, what had gotten into him? He had sent his Death Eaters to attack children... what was going on?

Draco had always seen the Dark Lord as a grand being, powerful, incredibly intelligent, there to defend his cause and impose the right way of thinking... what was happening to all of that? Was it only him discovering what Voldemort was really doing, or was the Dark Lord simply mad from the beginning, having drawn in so many purebloods into believing he was working for their sake? Had he been wrong since the beginning or was he just starting to see the war like someone from Dumbledore's side would?

He was not the kind of person to doubt what he was certain was true, and so went with the idea that a piece of the puzzle was missing, that some of the information had not reached him and it was the only reason for which he saw no point in attacking children. If he knew everything, he would not doubt because he would have the proof that Voldemort was not being immoral. It had to be it.

But still, the idea of this being the beginning of a war made him shudder, because now, he did not know on which side he was. What would the Dark Lord think of him having attacked a Death Eater? What would his father think? Would he still be accepted? What if Harry asked him to stay on his side to fight Voldemort? Would he do it? What was going to happen to him?

The clatter of scurrying footsteps was heard, the only difference with the ones he had heard before being the fact that they seemed to be coming towards the section in which he and Harry were located. Before he had the time to even consider the idea of hiding or leaving, the drape separating Harry's bed from all the other cubicles of sheets was pushed aside as two students in Griffindor uniforms entered, covered in mud and panting like tracked animals.

Draco recognized them as being Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, but stayed in his state of cold indifference, not moving from his place, nor bothering to hide his bloody hands. Immediately after entering, or maybe a moment later, Hermione broke down, falling to her knees and crying more loudly than everyone in the Hospital Wing. What she said, no one understood, seeing that it was said in an incomprehensible manner, interrupted by sobs and sniffles and drowned in her cries.

Having not noticed Draco's presence, she dragged herself to Harry's side, opposite the one where the Slytherin was positioned. Her face buried in the sheets of the bed, she kept on crying, the sound barely subdued by the covers. When she looked up again, her face was discernible, most of the mud having been cleared by the sheets and her tears.

She started talking in a loud tone, her voice still shaking with emotion. Her speech explained how sorry she was, how she now knew she was wrong and that there was no excuse for what she had done. She whimpered about Harry's situation, about how it was her fault and that his friends should have been there for him. She kept on going about how she would have never forgiven herself if he had died, that she was now ready to go through everything Harry deemed to be the right thing to do, that now she knew what they were facing and that everything would be fine, that they would find a way to get through it.

Of course, Harry was still unconscious at the end of her speech, but it seemed to calm her down to have said everything out loud. Ron, who had stayed by the entrance, did not move. She shakily got to her feet, took off her glove and passed her white hand on Harry's forehead, the whiteness of that patch of unblemished skin clashing with the rest of her face and garments, which were all so dirty. Draco imagined that he was possibly in the same state as she was. In fact, he turned sideways and made the few steps that separated him from the window. Outside, the lands were pitch black, and yet he could see his reflection staring back at him in the glass, piercing eyes in a grimy face. He looked like an Azkaban prisoner. They all looked like prisoners.

And they truly were, he thought. Prisoners of their fate.

"What are you doing here?" Ron suddenly exclaimed, noticing Draco, or rather, recognizing him.

"You helped him didn't you?" Hermione started, making her way around the bed to reach him. "You helped him..."

Draco could see the confusion in her eyes and in them, could almost read the questions she wanted to ask. Why? How? What was happening? What was happening to them all?

Tears started gliding down her cheeks once more as she threw herself into Draco's arms, sobbing. Taken aback, he could do nothing much save stop her from sliding down to the ground. He did not know what to say... silence seemed the best option at the moment. Hermione let go and walked back to the entrance, where Ron was still positioned. His wrist seemed bent at an odd angle, and he was still holding onto his wand. Before turning around and leaving, he sent a little nod in Draco's direction, the only exterior sign that he had registered what had happened mere moments ago.

They left.

What had just happened meant nothing impressive. Draco Malfoy was not going to be Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley's friend. They were from different worlds, hated each other and would continue to do so... possibly with less avidity. Granger simply had a rather external way of showing that she was thankful, especially when she was in such a pitiful state, as if all her certainties had fallen apart. She did not know what had brought Malfoy to help her friend, and the possibility of him being in love with Harry had not even drifted across her clever mind. Many questions left unanswered for her, as for Draco and Harry themselves. All were dealing with problems seeming to have unattainable answers.

Draco fell into a light slumber, a catalectic kind of state in which he was neither fully conscious or unconscious. Tiredness had taken the better of him but was not strong enough to bring him away from reality, because even though he laid unmoving in his chair, his eyes, seeming to have been veiled by a form of daydream that had not yet been discovered, watched Harry's unconscious body like a greedy pirate would watch his treasure, ready to harm anyone that approached too close.

The next day, he was forced out of the Hospital Wing. A few Slytherins brought him back to his room, where he was told to take a shower and go to bed seeing that there wouldn't be any classes that day, or the next, or the one after that for that matter. Draco took a bath, his skin recovering its normal color as blood and dirt were cleared away. But inside, he stayed changed, marked by the events of the previous day and the choices he had made.

He spent the next two days locked in his room, a house elf brining him his food and certain information he deemed necessary for the young mister Malfoy to know, such as the fact all students were to remain in their dormitories or in the Hospital Wing. No one left their house's common room, teachers were busy with all sorts of problems and measures that had to be taken care of. He also let it slip that Harry Potter had left the Hospital Wing.

Alone, Draco took the time to think of himself for the first time in a rather long time. He stayed sprawled on his bed, thinking of his family, what was going to happen to him... he felt greatly compelled to write home, but a letter reached him before he had mustered the courage to write and send his own.

_Dear Draco,_

_We heard about the awful news that took place at Hogsmeade. We hope everything is all right and that you are not hurt. Your father has been asking questions and showing a great deal of preoccupation towards you, Draco. You should come home as soon as they re-open that school floo network, I want to see you, and it has been so long since your last visit. Your father and I will be expecting your presence in a week or so._

_Take care my dear,_

_Your mother_

_P.S.: please take the time to contact your father... he does not seem too well and is greatly thoughtful for some reason. You have not done anything wrong, have you? _

Draco did not write to his father. Instead, he marked down a few sentences to his mother, saying he was indeed fine, that the school was rather shaken and that they were not allowed to leave their rooms for the time being. He told her to send his salutations to his father... and also said that he would come home when the opportunity presented itself. Of course, he hoped the opportunity would not come too fast, because then he would not have had enough time to muster having to hide his thoughts and anguish from his father, who would detect it and force all sorts of news out of him.

Four days after the incident, the students were asked to present themselves to the Great Hall at eight o'clock, for them to eat together for the first time since their trip to Hogsmeade. The students found themselves facing one grand table instead of four separated ones. The table formed some sort of curved shape that allowed people to sit on either side of it. The students were asked to sit together, with whoever they wanted, mixing all the houses and ages in a way that made them appear to be a simple muddle of school children. Separations could no longer be found.

Draco waited at the door for Harry to come. Unafraid of what others thought, he joined him and sat next to him, along with the mudblood and the weasel, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs neither of them knew.

A silent understanding seemed to bind the two boys together, meaning that they did not feel the need to talk to each other or really seem to acknowledge each others presence. They simply knew they were together and that was the only thing that really mattered. Still confused by their unfinished conversation, they could not find a way to finalize the way they felt, and so they just sat by each other, calmed by each other's presence.

No one really noticed that they were sitting together because so many strange mixes had formed at the table, Slytherins mixing with Hufflepuffs and even Griffindors in a way that sounded too strange to be fully explained. No one said anything misplaced, all connected by the fact that they were facing the same situation.

They were all united. Dumbledore's speech only emphasized what they had all unconsciously decided. He spoke of solidarity and strength, perseverance and unanimity, protection and security. New defenses had been put into action, a protective shield now encircling the school and the lands around it. When the amount of light permitted it, they could see it in the form of a blue orb that floated above them all, high in the air, in order of even the astronomy tower to be protected by it. He spoke of war, of death and its ever present aura on the world, the light and dark side, of Voldemort, of the Minsitry, of them. It was the beginning of a new age.

Under the table, Harry's hand shakily slipped into Draco's.

**-------------------------------------------------**

A short one this time, do tell me what you think. Don't forget, this is for you!


End file.
